tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-26558257626498101232024-02-07T23:41:00.535-08:00The Walking GreenkeeperJoseph Gulottihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06476792516565348601noreply@blogger.comBlogger12125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655825762649810123.post-60218974685280254112019-08-14T16:06:00.000-07:002019-08-14T16:06:09.889-07:00Greenkeeper, Chapter 5<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In order to become a Head Greenkeeper, or Golf Course Superintendent (same job, just different titles) in this day in age, attending a college that specifically offers a degree in turfgrass management, the plant sciences or agronomy is a definite requirement. Not too many organizations are going to hire a person based on experience alone so attending an institute of higher learning is surely a must if your goal is to become Head Greenkeeper.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Becoming a Head Greenkeeper was definitely my intent, and due to the community college in my area not offering any degree remotely related to managing grass in a golf course setting, left me with few options. Traveling out of state was simply a necessity, and to stay somewhat local, I had three different schools to choose from, Penn State, Rutgers and the University of Maryland. All three of these institutes of higher learning offered two or four year degrees in turfgrass management, but being that I slacked tough for the majority of my adulthood pretty much negated my chances of acquiring a bachelor’s. Most people my age doing this golf course maintenance gig were already Assistant Greenkeepers or Head Greenkeepers, and here I was this old jerk greenkeeper occasionally weedeating a goddamn pond edge.</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-ffd990ce-7fff-b869-22a1-3c6a6985af7b" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Time was of the essence and the financial ramifications associated with attending school was also a serious consideration. Being that time and spending exorbitant amounts of cash played into this critical decision, attending Penn State was quickly eliminated from the list. As much as I liked those Nittany Lions, Happy Valley was just too far from my spot, and the idea of moving three and a half hours away seemed way too daunting.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Jim Kelly and my good old friend, Mark Berry both graduated from The University of Maryland’s turfgrass management program, so I did consider rolling to College Park. Their main campus was a little over an hour away from where I was living, but the tuition was mad high. It would’ve been a financial stretch to become a Terrapin so I began focusing my attention on those Scarlet Knights.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Rutgers offered a certificate program which consisted of two, highly intense, ten week semesters done over a period of two years. Honestly, I was a bit leary of the certificate deal, but people in the business assured me that a high number of successful greenkeepers had graduated from this particular program. The price was right, and the ability to quickly obtain a certificate deemed reputable by the industry seemed legit, so I got my shit together, applied, and was barely accepted into the Rutgers Professional Golf Turf Management School for the fall session of Y2K.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">If you thought I was anxious pedaling my ass through the gated entrance of The College Town Golf Club two years prior, you should’ve seen me during orientation. I was a nervous wreck. It had been nearly ten years since being in a school setting, and if I fucked this up, I knew menial labor was in play for the rest of my sorry existence. The undesirable thought of making ten bucks an hour, living in some crappy apartment complex, while ripping around in some late model piece of shit American car that was breaking down on the regs, while getting hollered at by my white trash wife, Mandy Sue, because life was full on sucking was a world I did not want to delve into. And sorry if this seems superficial, but I used this highly possible outcome as motivation.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And along with not wanting to succumb to </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">white trash life</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> (I should copyright this phrase and make stickers and t-shirts), when I applied to Rutgers, I wasn’t accepted right away, and was placed on the waiting list. I remember pleading with the administrators in the admissions office , making these outlandish promises of finishing in the top ten of the class, while incessantly proclaiming I had the vigor to be an outstanding student, even though my high school transcripts told a different story entirely.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After hearing my heartfelt spiel, the administrator took pity on me, and placed my name first on the waiting list. And despite my reservations about remaining on, what I considered, a sketchy list, this kind woman basically assured me that being first was pretty much a guarantee into the program. Thankfully, one of the more promising candidates bailed, and I was in.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So there I was, a moron fid in his late twenties, sitting in a room with forty nine other dudes, nearly shitting my khakis over the fear of ending up in the goddamn poorhouse. But perhaps even more harrowing than the horror of going </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">white trash life</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, was the empty promise I made about being an outstanding student, despite not earning a legitimate, “A” since the sixth fucking grade. I had my work cut out for me, and it certainly did not take long before my fears of succeeding became a grim reality.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I learned early on that the Rutgers Professional Golf Turf Management School had a reputation to uphold. All effort was put forth by our instructors to provide us with the pertinent information required to become successful workers in the field of growing grass. The schedule was rigorous, Monday through Friday, from nine to three, leaving nary a minute to rip a white knight (Marlboro light) or grub down a lunch. You had to adjust to the lifestyle, and if you didn’t the program would literally crush you.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Two specific classes that first semester, Turfgrass Disease Pathology and Introduction to Integrated Pest Management, I recall quite vividly. They were both taught by the same instructor whose teachings initiated the foundation of our becoming promising young greenkeepers. The instructor was smallish in stature, athletically lean in build, and wore his long hair pulled back into a ponytail. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When this particular instructor was introduced to us during orientation I remember thinking to myself, “who’s the hippy”? Well, this hippy was, Rich Buckley, and once you got to know him, you quickly realized he wasn’t much of a hippy at all. In fact, Buckley was more prone to punch you in the face than hook you up with a free hug. Despite his size, and a look that seemed more suited for a headshop than a college classroom, the dude was hardcore, and his persona reflected the vigor of his instruction. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At the start of every Buckley class, we were given a quiz worth ten points based on the content taught from the previous lecture. For example our first quiz in Disease Pathology was taken at the beginning of the second lecture. That first quiz was really basic, and everyone including myself pretty much aced it. It was during his second lecture where things started getting a bit sketchy.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Buckley was schooling us on the symptoms and signs of turfgrass disease. The symptoms are the actual visible disruptions one can see with the naked eye. For example, just say you’re strolling along on a putting surface, and you notice these off colored patches of turf about the size of dinner plates. These irregular shaped circles are the visual symptoms of turfgrass disease. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">However, it’s what’s happening within these circles that are actually causing the turf to look like hell. For the most part, they’re not noticeable to the naked eye, and these microscopic fucks are what they call in </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">plant pathology life</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">, signs.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The varying types of turfgrass disease signs such as, mycelium, fruiting bodies, basidiomycetes, fucking ectotrophic hyphae, and acervulus structures with lunate conidia overwhelmed a jerk like myself equipped with only a high school diploma. I remember leaving class that day with a bad feeling, and from the beleaguered looks on the faces of my classmates, it was only slightly comforting to assume I probably wasn’t alone.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I was in uncharted territory, being that I never studied extremely hard for any test I took in my entire life. But I studied my ass off prior to taking that “Symptoms and Signs” quiz. Studied like I had never studied before. And when I sat my ass down while waiting anxiously for, Buckley to pass out the quiz, I honestly felt prepared. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Here is the actual quiz he placed on my desk.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b><br />
<h1 dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Turf Disease – Quiz 2 – Intro to fungi</span></h1>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: decimal; margin-left: -54pt; padding-left: 18pt; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When you see clamp connections on hyphae, what does it mean? (1)</span></div>
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<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></b><br />
<ol start="2" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: decimal; margin-left: -54pt; padding-left: 18pt; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Illustrate four ways fungi in the Ascomycota produce ascospores. (4)</span></div>
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<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></b><br />
<ol start="3" style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
<li dir="ltr" style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; list-style-type: decimal; margin-left: -54pt; padding-left: 18pt; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre;"><div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Illustrate five ways conidia are produced by the Ascomycota. (5)</span></div>
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<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /><br /><br /></b><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Unfortunately, it was bomb city. I scored an unacceptable forty percent on that piece which basically killed any shred of confidence I might have been feeling about my aptitude as a student. Doubt began to creep into my psyche, similar to the way it happened when I was an entry level greenkeeper at The College Town Golf Club. Again I questioned whether I had the fortitude to pull this school thing off. Understanding the complexities of turfgrass disease symptoms and signs obviously wasn’t clicking, and bailing on turf school to enter the ranks of </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">white trash life </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">seemed like a viable alternative.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Thankfully, I wasn’t the sole jerk who failed miserably on this quiz. With the exception of a few nerds, most everyone blew it, leaving myself and the majority of my classmates no other choice but to work harder.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Buckley was setting the standard, and I dare not say his classes became any easier after that God awful quiz. But as the lectures progressed during Turfgrass Disease Pathology, Buckley started tying together the correlating symptoms and signs to a specific disease, and the information became way less harrowing to comprehend. He was pushing us, knowing that once we were in the field this knowledge, coupled with the intensity of his classroom would prepare us for any difficult situation we might encounter as turfgrass managers. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Buckley’s classes were by far the toughest, but equally as entertaining. He had a way of mixing in humorous bits to keep us engaged, and I recall this one particular lecture that I found to be utterly hilarious but sparked quite the controversy.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This controversial episode happened to go down during an Introduction to Integrated Pest Management class. Buckley was lecturing us about insect behavior, specifically that insects survive using instinct. To help us better understand this concept, he used dogs as an example, and this is when things got dicey.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“You think a dog loves you?” Buckley innocently asked us. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A plethora of. “Yeahs” and head nods filled the classroom as we answered back with a collective, “yes” that dogs are in fact, loving.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, it doesn’t”, Buckley retorted matter of factly which sent a tremor of surprise throughout the air.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“That dog is fooling you”, he continued, “Dogs don’t feel love or have the ability to give love. It’s a learned behaviour so you fill its bowl with food and water in order to survive.” </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">People did not like this answer. Not even a little bit, and their displeasure was shown with numerous retorts as individual students began expressing their experiences of dog love. Each and every time an example was laid out to him, Buckley would confidently shake his head in disagreement, chalking it up as pure instinct. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This brutal assessment that dogs are unable to show or feel love was not going over well, and a select group of my classmates were riled up pretty tough. The controversy reached its climax as one of the students from the south, who was nearly in tears stood up and declared in his thick southern drawl, </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“FUCK YOU, BUCKLEY! MY DOG LOVES ME!”, and with that, Buckley calmly moved the discussion forward showing no signs of being rattled by our classmate’s crass remark. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Despite pissing off a good majority of the classroom that day, personally, I loved all the commotion. And to this day, whenever I notice a random dog licking some person’s face, I realize it’s not love that dog is showing, it’s hunger.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I never thought in my entire life that I would ever say something like this, but I really liked school. Growing up, I was never a good student. Hell, I wasn’t even average. School to me was skating by with mostly C’s, a couple of D’s and some F’s sprinkled in for good measure. Most subjects didn’t interest me therefore I barely tried, but upon arrival at The Rutgers Professional Golf Turf Management School my entire attitude changed not only towards education, but life itself.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Learning became important, and not only was I getting schooled on the intricacies of managing turf in a golf course setting, but more importantly, I developed a deep understanding of things I was capable of achieving. Paying attention in class, asking questions, completing assignments on time, while sacrificing sleep to prepare for tests, became the norm. I manufactured a work ethic which birthed a well of self confidence, propelling me towards success. It was fascinating, because I honestly thought hell raising was my modus operandi.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After finishing a hell week of finals, I headed back to Delaware, and anxiously awaited for my grades to arrive. For the first time in my scholastic life, I was genuinely pumped to receive a report card. And man, did my boy, Tom Petty nail it. The waiting was definitely the hardest part and after sweating it out for perhaps the longest two weeks of my life, an envelope from Rutgers finally arrived at my parent’s house.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I rushed over there with the quickness, and was greeted by my parents who were perhaps as nervous as me. More so than anyone, they knew my penchant for fucking off in school, and lest we forget, the hell I put them through during my teens and early twenties. Not only did they invest financially into this greenkeeping escapade of mine, but I suppose their emotional investment was much greater. This was basically their second son’s last chance to accomplish something remotely successful in life.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Upon entering my parent’s house, I took a seat at the kitchen table while we exchanged the usual pleasantries. Sensing my anxiety, the coveted envelope was finally handed over to me, and after tearing it open I began to pour over the first report card I had received since high school. These were my grades from that first ten week session.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Botany and Physiology of Turfgrass & Ornamentals: C</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Computer Applications: A</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Effective Speaking: B</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Golf Course Construction I: B</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Irrigation Principles I: B</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Landscape Management: B+</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Landscape Plants: B</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Management of Golf Course Employees & Business Communication: B+</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Principles of Integrated Pest Control I: B</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Soil Science: B+</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Turfgrass Disease: B+</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Turfgrass Disease Laboratory: A </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Turfgrass Maintenance I: A</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Turfgrass Identification & Development: B</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Weed Identification: A</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">GPA: 3.29</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">A sense of accomplishment overwhelmed me emotionally as tears of joy welled into my eyes. My biggest success up to that point was probably making close to a grand selling weed at some random Grateful Dead show in Bonner Springs, Kansas so please forgive me for getting a bit weepy. Assuming my tears stemmed from disappointment, my parent’s questioned what was wrong? I simply handed them the report card, unable to control the emotional joy.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It truly was a landmark moment for the three of us. We had been through a shitload together, so it was a bona fide relief that I actually achieved something positive. And I’ll never forget something my mother said that day.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Joe, I always wondered about you”.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“What do you mean, mom?” I questioned.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Now please don’t take this the wrong way.” she began</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I won’t.” I promised.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Well, I always had a gut feeling you were smart, but you have to forgive me for thinking this, but sometimes I wondered if you were just plain dumb”.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The room erupted with laughter, and who could blame my mom, for thinking I was a dumbass. I did some pretty moronic shit, like sling weed at a Dead show in Bonner Springs, Kanas, so how could I be pissed at her for making such a statement. </span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Leaving didn’t come easy that day, because I just couldn’t stop basking in my parent's adoration of my newfound intelligence. When I finally got up to roll out, I hugged both my mom and dad so hard, and thanked them profusely for all their help, while never giving up on me. It was a crowning moment, but I understood all I had been through was simply a small taste of the overall greenkeeping experience. I still had a lot to do, and even more to learn.</span></div>
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Joseph Gulottihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06476792516565348601noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655825762649810123.post-19494404498529722252019-07-18T15:15:00.003-07:002019-07-18T15:15:54.389-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="font-family: Times, serif;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;">"Greenkeeper", chapter 4 (hole 4)</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The first job I ever did as an entry level greenskeeper was weedeat drainage swales and pond banks. It’s a shit job to say the least, but necessary in order to keep the water hazards aesthetically pleasing and functional.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The following weeks a weedeater became an extension of my body basically becoming a third arm. Along with weedeating drainage swales and pond banks, I trimmed around bunker edges, ball washers, tee signs, fences, and trees, pretty much hacking grass anywhere a riding mower couldn’t reach. And for those of you wondering, there are numerous areas that require the light touch of a weedeater because not all grass can be cut using a riding mower on a golf course. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Operating a weedeater is tough and grueling work, and it wasn’t long before I began envying the equipment operators. Their tendency to park a mower under a tree I was weedeating was annoyingly uncanny. I’d be ripping that weedeater tough, and they would pull up into the shade of a tree I was working around, shut off the mower, smile at me, take a long pull from their igloo thermos, then cruise off with what seemed to me, a patronizing wave of the hand. It fucking killed me. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The heat was unbearable at times. Sweat would roll into your eyes unmercifully, and everytime you attempted to wipe away the sweat, it just made things worse. All the shit that was caked to your body would create this sort of Jackson Pollock masterpiece on your face, painted with nature’s own colors of dirt and grass. Unfortunately, it wasn’t solely grass and dirt that covered your skin, and soon to be wrecked t-shirt, shorts and kicks. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Wildlife tends to thrive on the diverse ecosystem of a golf course, and we all know that wildlife couldn’t care less where they drop a load. Animals seem particularly fond of relieving themselves by the watering hole so while weedeating around a pond, it’s not unfathomable to whack through the feces of squirrels, deer, foxes, rabbits, and the worse defecating culprit in the history of golf course turf maintenance-geese. </span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-aa1a8a3d-7fff-d150-7003-a3b3ac3d0046" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And even worse than getting lambasted by animal turds while running a weedwacker around a pond is clipping a dimwitted frog. It’s a total mindfuck, because you’re racked with guilt for killing a living thing, but pissed due to their remains being splattered all over you. It also creates a truly interesting moral dilemma in your head, questioning whether a frog should have died in order for a golfer to be penalized a stroke so his or her ball could roll more easily into a well manicured water hazard. Although I felt bad for killing countless toads in the name of greenkeeping, I justified the act realizing some other animal would eat its remains, shit it out, and I would end up weedwacking through it again.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As my weeks progressed as an entry level greenkeeper, I kept getting assigned the craptacular jobs, like weedeating, hand picking crabgrass out of putting surfaces, skimming algae off the top of ponds, filling divots, and pulling weeds from the clubhouse flower beds. Basically, I was accomplishing all the tasks that didn’t require the expertise of sitting on one’s ass while operating a riding piece of equipment, and in all honesty, it was extremely frustrating. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I seriously began to question whether I had the mettle to withstand this type of work. It was tough waking up at the ass crack every morning, particularly since I was so used to working restaurant hours. And coming home every afternoon smelling like stale grass and goose shit certainly did nothing to help matters. My patience was running thin, and I seriously considered hitting up the brew pub to see if that apprentice brewer gig was still an option.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Despite my reservations, I realized the importance of doing these loathsome tasks well in order to gain Jim’s respect, and although it seemed like forever, it really wasn’t that long before I was trained to operate a riding mower. And this is when all the uncertainties about whether I had the fortitude to become a greenkeeper vanished. Placing my ass on one of the many different machines used to precisely cut grass in a golf course setting was definitive turning point in my career, and to this day, I still thoroughly enjoy it. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There is something very zen like about operating a mower on a golf course. More often than not, you’re heading out just as the sun is beginning to peak on the horizon casting its beautiful shades of oranges, golds, and purples all over the landscape. Birds are in full on morning mode, endlessly chirping their songs, while gentle breezes rustle the leaves orchestrating this magnificent soundtrack of nature. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Witnessing deer sprint away from you in fear, or a red tail hawk swooping in on a careless field mouse are priceless scenes that are truly unforgettable. The crisp smell of morning, along with the vast expanse of green sucker punch your senses, inspiring one to think that there clearly is a God. In fact, I challenge any atheist to work as greenkeeper for at least a week, and if at the end of your seven day stint you’re still questioning the existence of a higher power, then I don’t know what to tell you. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Along with your senses being overloaded by the brilliance of nature, mowing is a task where you accomplish a lot of thoughts. It’s like being on your own personal think tank where ideas, good and bad, flow pretty tough. Thoughts of girls, overdue bills, fishing, how the fucking Philadelphia Eagles will blow it, dumb shit you did in your past, dumb shit you’re going to do in the future, God, Satan, angels, demons, Jesus, Buddha, Allah, Krishna, David Koresh. Wondering if a black man, woman, gay person, tranny or God forbid, Donald Trump will ever become president of the United States? How on earth did I hold in this poop for so long? Man I’ve got to piss. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The places your mind goes while cutting grass are endless, and almost enlightening in a way. But perhaps my favorite thing to do while operating a mower is make up songs about people. It’s one of my unique talents, a learned skill from back in the day where my older brother and I would use lyrics from a popular song, and change them into deprecating words to rip on one another. Most of my greatest hits have been created while operating a mower. Here a few examples.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This rap is about a housemate I lived with who was a chef. (Sir Mix A Lot style):</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">His name, Mark McKinney</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Used to be fat and now he’s skinny</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Had a job at the Mirage</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Slinging that fucking garbage</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Got a job at the Iron Hill</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Oh, Oh so he could pay them bills.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Then he got a little bit of knowledge</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Got himself a job at Swarthmore college</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But it didn’t give him no thrill</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Went back to the Iron Hill</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cookin’ up steaks real mean</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Eatin’ potato chips fried in Olean</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Cause that dude’s gotta stay skinny</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And that’s the story of Mark McKinney</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></b><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This jam is about a golf pro I used to work with (Done to the song baby face):</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Baby EEEEEEE</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He’s the whiniest pro in history</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He can’t even fucking look at me</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Baby E</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I tell him cart path only and he goes and cries like a bitch</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That baby EEEEEE</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He’s the whiniest pro in all of history</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I stimp the greens they’re nine</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He doesn’t think that that’s fine</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">That goddamn baby EEEEEEEE!</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And this tasty nugget made up about a member (done to Lynyrd Skynyrd That Smell)</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ooh Ooh Fat Rob</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Duh down nowwww</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Here comes Fat Rob</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Duh down nowwww</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Ooh Ooh Fat Rob</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Duh down nowwww</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Three hot dogs at the turn yeahhh!</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.2; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I agree that making up song parodies isn’t all that enlightening, but I can honestly say, the act of operating a mower has produced some of my greatest thoughts. How do you think I came up with the idea to write this stupid book? It didn’t come to me after blowing fifty thousand bong hits, that’s for sure. To put it simply, my love for greenkeeping flourished while I was ripping around the golf course on a mower thinking the day away. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">The hours did remain long, and I still came home smelling like hot garbage, but another awesome part about working on the golf course was the cast of characters I met while working on that piece.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There was this dude, Mike who was tall , athletically built, sporting All American good looks, and was a true master with the ladies. He partied tough back in those days, and his stories of hard drinking, random bouts of fisticuffs, and the countless ladies he picked up always kept the crew in stitches. Mike worked as hard as he partied, and if you were paired up with him to do a job, you had better come correct. It didn’t matter if he had been out the night before on an epic bender because the effects of booze and the extracurriculars had no bearing on the quality of his work. He was a full on freak of nature. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Broads might have considered Mike a pretty boy, but the true pretty boy of our crew was this guy, Brian. He prided himself on his neat appearance, and was the only person I knew who looked nearly perfect at five thirty in the morning. Brian’s pristine white t-shirt was always tucked in neatly to his wrinkle free khakis, and his locker was as clean and organized as a church vestibule. His dainty mannerisms and dislike for doing any job that might involve getting dirty earned him the nickname, “Peter Pan” by the mechanic which we all agreed, including Brian, was spot on.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As for the mechanic, his name was, Dave. Straight out of eighties hessian mode, imagine a dude wearing a Molly Hatchet tee with the sleeves cut off, ripped Wranglers, and steel toed Diehards. That was our mechanic in a nutshell, and although his Hatchet concert tee has been retired for the more age appropriate Hanes Beefy T, the sleeves still remain cut off. Dave had been a staple of The College Town Golf Club since the mid eighties, and always by Dave’s side when he wasn’t out working on the course was Curt.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Curt had his own grass cutting business and worked with us on a part time basis. He was totally Hessian like Dave, but in a different sort of Hessian way. Where Dave sported a bushy goatee, Curt was clean shaven with the sharpest mustache I might’ve ever seen on a dude. Fucking Clark Gable style. I’m not a huge fan of the stache, but I can honestly say that Curt was one of the few people I’ve met who looked strikingly handsome rocking a mustache. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Acquiring this job and meeting these fellas was a decisive turning point for me. The majority of my life was spent hanging out with the rebellious sort, so associating with people who were responsible, while taking great pride in their work, helped me immensely. I admired Mike’s ability to work through the worst of hangovers. I got a kick out of Brian’s style of accomplishing dirty ass jobs while managing to look good. Dave was understanding and enjoyable to talk with, and Curt never hesitated with a useful tip or helping hand. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I really liked these fellas, but just like any other job where you have to coexist with varying personalities, you tend to gravitate towards people similar to yourself. And during my tenure at The College Town Golf Club, I developed a relationship with one of the all time characters on the golf scene. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He was this tall, lanky dude, in his early forties that struck a stark resemblance to arguably the nastiest left handed pitcher of all time, Randy Johnson. He started at The College Town Golf Club just prior to my arrival, and had worked at a variety of courses throughout the region. He addressed everyone as, “kid” no matter if you were twenty or eighty, and had a shitload of knowledge about greenkeeping and the game of golf. His name was, Bob.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">More so than anyone on the crew, Bob schooled me on the nuances of greenkeeping. Take cutting fairways for example. Mowing a fairway, in my opinion, is perhaps the coolest task you can do on a golf course. It requires skill, particularly if the chosen method is </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: italic; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">striping</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One of the most frequently asked questions I receive when people find out I’m a greenkeeper is how do you create those pretty lines or stripes on the grass. It all starts with the type of mowers we use. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">In the precision based environment of golf course turf maintenance, we’re mowing a majority of our grass with reel type mowers. They’re designed to cut turf at extremely low heights, sometimes as low as an eighth of an inch. A reel mower consists of eight to eleven blades attached to a cylinder about twenty inches wide, which rotates at a high speed motorized by hydraulics. The cylinder of blades continuously move in a clockwise motion and, for lack of better terms, tickle what is called a bedknife. This friction between the blades and the bedknife precisely cuts the grass at the intended height of cut. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Attached to the back of the reel unit is a solid roller, about the size of a rolling pin, and this is the contraption used to create those magical stripes. The roller basically lays the grass down after it is cut , and that laid down turf gets reflected by the light of the sun. Turf that is cut towards the sun is a darker, more intense green color, while turf mowed away from the sun is lighter, almost even whitish in appearance.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Stripes give fairways, greens and tees definition in an effort to showcase the defined targets of the game. At The College Town Golf Club we mowed our fairways in a diagonal direction alternating between left to right or right to left angles depending on the given day. This particular approach produced an almost madras or argyle appearance, so it required mowing the straightest lines possible to pull off this intended look.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I began mowing fairways my striping was downright horrible. I just couldn’t mow a goddamn straight line. I’d start off well enough, but as I neared the rough, the point where you need to lift the reel units, my tendency was to drift off to either the far right or left (depending on the direction of the angles) creating this unsightly bend in my stripe. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“For chrissakes, kid your fairways look like a bunch of bananas. Who’s your sponsor? Chaquita”!</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bob would quip while slapping his knee.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“We can’t have fairway stripes like that, kid”.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was frustrating, and sensing my frustration, Bob took me aside and gave me some pointers on how to avoid the dreaded banana stripe.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">After getting schooled, I was striping fairways with the best of them, and Bob took notice. He’d roll up on me as I finished a deadly accurate pass and comment,</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Frozen rope, kid, frozen rope. I like it, kid. Much better.”,</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">referring to the straight ass stripe I just mowed.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 5pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bob was extremely skilled as a greenkeeper, but perhaps his number one skill was doing course set up, which consists of moving tee markers and changing the hole locations on greens.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was almost zen like watching, this grizzled veteran choose a hole location. He approached this task with a cacophony of measured steps which involved gliding across a putting surface searching for the perfect spot. Once a location was chosen, Bob would ease that cup cutter (the tool used to create the golf hole) into the upper organic matter of the putting surface, then tenderly work the aluminum four inch in diameter cylinder down into the subsurface of the green with a series of twists. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He knew the exact moment to pull the plug out due to his uncanny feel, and his cleanliness was unmatched. Not a speck of soil remained. Leaners? No fucking way, and his hole locations were always fair, because, Bob wouldn’t allow his mood to spoil the integrity of the game. In the two seasons we worked together, not once did I hear a complaint from the peanut gallery of hacks about a single hole he cut. It was a truly amazing feat, bordering on the mystery of transfiguration. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Awestruck by his mastery with the cup cutter, I remember asking, Bob why he was so obsessed with this particular job.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b><br />
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“It’s the final destination, kid!” he exclaimed. “Every golfer every day is going to this spot so it better be perfect or damn near”.</span></div>
<b style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: -webkit-standard; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><br /></b>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This lesson, was perhaps the best one I have ever learned as a greenkeeper, and to this day, I still consider course set up to be the most important task done in golf course turf maintenance. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bob and I became instant friends while working together at The College Town Golf Club, and along with his knowledge of greenkeeping, which fascinated the hell out of me, Bob’s wit and sense of humor kept me endlessly entertained. Whether it was coming up with nicknames for the members (Fat Rob The College Town Walrus, Deadeye Dick, Lowside Lou, Doctor Golf, and our favorite, the Professor) or tales of hustling his golf buddies, the six figure men, for some extra spending dough, the dude always had me laughing.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Along with his vast knowledge of greenkeeping, coupled with a wicked sense of humor, Bob was a badass stick. You would never guess by looking at him that this tall lanky dude sporting polyester khakis, dated polos, white Etonic sneaker style golf shoes, and unkempt graying hair bristling out of the top of a sweat stained Titleist visor, could thoroughly beat you down at the game of golf.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">We began playing together quite often, pretty much everyday after finishing work, and on weekends when he wasn’t fleecing the six figure men. And it was always an experience hitting the links with, Bob. I was amazed by how well he played, but what truly astounded me, and quite honestly, equally annoyed the hell out of me was the perception random golfers had of, Bob. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I specifically remember a late summer round at the local muni (the course I grew up playing) where we got paired up with these two kooks who definitely did not fit the muni golfer stereotype. They were your ordinary country club types, dressed to the nines in the latest golf garb, with flashy state of the art equipment to match. When the starter introduced us on the first tee, I could tell by the once over they gave, Bob, and their disinterested weak ass handshakes, they were not at all thrilled to be paired up with a pair of bums like us.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At this point in our friendship, I was pretty used to witnessing Bob tear it up, so his play that day didn’t really surprise me. However, I’m sure the two posers in the other cart were fucking flabbergasted as Bob birdied the first hole, missed a ten footer for eagle on the par five second, but still secured a birdie. Tapped in for another birdie on the third hole, parred the following three holes, birded the par five seventh, then parred out to finish the front nine four under par.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">On the back nine, Bob cooled off a bit, parring the next five holes, then heated back up with a birdie on the par five fifteenth. He secured routine pars on holes sixteen and seventeen, and as I checked the scorecard heading to the eighteenth tee I realized, Bob didn’t have a goddamn, “five” anywhere on the scorecard. If he birdied eighteen, a par five, Bob would accomplish the feat of playing an entire round without posting a, “five”. I was about to open my big mouth, but thankfully I caught myself. God forbid, I jinx his chances.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bob routinely found the eighteenth green in regulation, and had about a twenty footer for birdie. Anxiously, I watched as he lined up his putt, and after a good hard look, Bob addressed his ball with his patina gold, Acushnet Bullseye blade putter giving it a firm strike. As the ball rolled across the green everything seemed to stop. Birds ceased their chirping, the gentle hot summer breeze calmed, and the unbearable heat was no longer a bother. From my vantage point I honestly thought it was buckets, but at the last second, Bob’s Titleist drifted ever so slightly to the low side, missing the, “final destination” by mere inches. We both gasped with disappointment, then Bob gingerly strolled to his ball, and tapped in for perhaps the most loathsome par I have ever witnessed in my life.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Bob shot a sixty-seven that day and I was nine strokes worse with a seventy six. I was pretty damn proud of my round, but honestly was more stoked for, Bob. Witnessing a player nearly finish an entire round without carding a, “five” was pretty awesome. I was genuinely stoked for him. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As for team posh, it seemed like they couldn’t have cared less about the sweet show of golf, Bob just displayed. Throughout the round they barely spoke to us, and as we collectively exited the course after another round of horseshit wimpy handshakes, one would assume they would have given, Bob the props he deserved. Unfortunately, they just rolled back to their car and peeled out of the local muni course parking lot without nary a compliment. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">As I sat on the golf cart while, Bob slipped off his white Etonics and placed them in the trunk of his ride I asked,</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Did you know you didn’t have a five on the scorecard going into eighteen?”</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah, kid. I realized it after I birdied fifteen. Almost had it too. I honestly thought that putt on eighteen was going in but got lowsided, kid.” he replied in typical Bob fashion.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Lowside Lou’d it.” I lamented.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Yeah, the old Lowside Lou got me kid. Oh well. It would’ve been something to pull off a round without a five on the scorecard, but you know I’ll get another chance.” Bob said with a laugh while slapping his knee.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Still a hell of a round though. Those guys we played with certainly didn’t seem too impressed.” I added.</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“I know kid. As you like to say, Joe, what a bunch of kooks, but we showed them what was up. I’m sure they were pretty surprised by how well we played. You had a hell of round today too, kid. Your game has come a long way since we started playing together.” Bob commented</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Thanks, Bob.”</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">“Aw you’re welcome, kid.”</span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">It was nearly dusk as I exited the muni course parking lot, and I was barely able to contain all the positive thoughts racing through my mind. I was overwhelmed with joy that I did not succumb to the pressures of living some mundane life. I was laying down frozen ropes on fairways, attempting to perfect the Bob method of course set up, digging holes the size of burial plots to repair irrigation leakes with my boy, Mike, taking pride in grooming bunkers with, Peter Pan, being taught how to operate burly ass tractors by, Dave, weedeating sharp edges with, Curt, while learning the intricacies of becoming a successful greenkeeper by my main man, Jim Kelly. </span></div>
<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 10pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times, serif; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">This feeling was alien to me, because the majority of my adulthood has been so void of true happiness. I felt that capturing some sort of meaning to my life was finally within reach, and realized all I needed to do was Charlie Hustle my ass into home plate with a head first slide to become a person I honestly believed did not exist. </span></div>
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />Joseph Gulottihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06476792516565348601noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655825762649810123.post-60921570619177008122018-06-27T14:13:00.000-07:002018-06-27T14:13:07.971-07:00My Letter To The GCSAA To The Board Of Governors,<br />
<br />
For the past 15 years as either an assistant or head superintendent, I have been fortunate enough to work with Latinos. Whether they were from Mexico, Guatemala, Ecuador, Peru, or any other region of Central America, it is my firm belief these fine men and women caring for our courses are the reason our industry has flourished.<br />
<br />
Without their sacrifice our already depleted labor pool would be in shambles, and what is happening on the border is beyond tragic. Not only is the current administration hamstringing our industry of needed labor, but even worse, President Trump is creating a culture of hate by separating children from their families and labeling basically any Latino seeking asylum in our country as, "bad".<br />
<br />
As someone who has dug ditches, laid sod, repaired irrigation leaks, troubleshoot turf problems, and most importantly, built long lasting relationships within the Latin community because I am in this turfgrass industry, I cannot accept the immigration policies, President Trump is enacting. I believe it is cruel, bigoted, and extremely short sighted bordering on the worst hardships minorities have faced in our history. I loathe to say it, but I am currently very embarrassed to call myself an American right now.<br />
<br />
With our current struggles to attract labor, I feel our voice as an association needs to be heard. But more importantly;y, we should be standing up against this administration and its immigration policies as a show of support to our Latino brothers and sisters. I am sure each and every greenkeeper that is part of this association has been helped by our friends to the south. It is time we come together and let them know they are appreciated.<br />
<br />
I am asking that the GCSAA issue a statement against the immigration policies of the Trump administration. I am also asking our association to openly lobby against this terrible immigration policy.<br />
<br />
Respectfully,<br />
<br />
<br />
Joseph N. Gulotti, GCS Newark Country ClubJoseph Gulottihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06476792516565348601noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655825762649810123.post-56009427648428320982018-01-19T12:44:00.000-08:002018-01-20T04:33:48.610-08:00Part 2: The Keyboard is Mightier Than the Fist. How MLSN Will Save Middle Class GolfNear the end of summer last season, John Kaminski fired off a tweet asking if there was a superintendent willing to do a presentation on a relevant topic at the Penn State Turf Conference. Like an idiot, I sent old @iTweetTurf a direct message volunteering to do a talk about how I changed my entire approach to greenkeeping. I really wasn't sure if, Dr. Kaminski was going to gamble on some nickel bagging superintendent like myself spieling about MLSN and Growth Potential, but surprisingly, this professor, who sometimes moonlights as a photographer, accepted my sword of minimalist greenkeeping, and placed my arse on the docket.<br />
<br />
Never having done any sort of public speaking, short of addressing the nine o'clock sweeps concerning the cart rules, I was fucking terrified. Plus my only concept of power point was powerfully pointing out tasks to my staff (*1). The thought of getting up in front of my peers was scary beyond belief, but I prepared pretty tough , and despite my inexperience, the presentation was a smash.<br />
<br />
As I was preparing this talk for the PSU Turf conference titled, "The Art of Minimalist Greenkeeping" two very distinct ideas kept coalescing in my mind. The first thought was motivated by the animosity I felt towards Mr. Armen Suny due to his inexplicable attitude towards the Minimal Levels of Sustainable Nutrition. His genuine disdain for this simplistic approach to managing soils inspired me to absolutely crush it. And while honing my presentation in the dark basement of my killer brick ranch house, every time I fumbled, spaced or fucked up, I wouldn't let myself quit until it was totally dialed in. My sole purpose was to obliterate the old school and antiquated attitudes of the Suny set, and in order to do so, I needed to convince every goddamn greenkkeeper in attendance that what I was talking about was legit. The chip on my shoulder was strong (*2).<br />
<br />
The second idea was definitely more esoteric and comforting than the first. And it happened so organically, inspired from a place of ease and comfort, it truly was the yin to my anger fueled yang of wanting to camel clutch BCSR into submission. I realized this minimalist, efficient, optimal, dumbass, or however you prefer to describe the style of greenkeeping I am currently practicing, is having a profound financial impact on the club I work for. I'm probably writing cover letters and resumes as opposed to blogging right now, because there's a possibility our club doesn't make it another year if I had kept on managing soils the way I had done in the past.<br />
<br />
So let's break it down....<br />
<br />
When I arrived at my current position during the middle of June in 2016, before I had been turned on to the MLSN guidelines, one of the first things I did was scope out the soil reports. Then I checked to see if the previous superintendent had been following the recommendations based off the soil tests pictured below.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSLijbj-vqAnKqglOzFT7zkEwVHUQ4JmCjlKtIpTsf6mujebc7DnieHct8RhBgziK8_6UBiYAKKcb5sgYdrnANZr9VAXvZeEYbgJ7PnLVTdIhA1qC0818cX7zaLESRGHOM-w-jvlnEs5g/s1600/IMG_6979.JPG" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSLijbj-vqAnKqglOzFT7zkEwVHUQ4JmCjlKtIpTsf6mujebc7DnieHct8RhBgziK8_6UBiYAKKcb5sgYdrnANZr9VAXvZeEYbgJ7PnLVTdIhA1qC0818cX7zaLESRGHOM-w-jvlnEs5g/s640/IMG_6979.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdJo6PAhZ6mn3j7OVg2vj7QCqSJT7iJWCJKfP0j17ywzggP4DE7ngvD46vhfExo4wIyKZkrRb8n1KXdPq7sy2K2x3SmRpOxDYF_Q1Lik-opd22CakbnJJC3TWGOi8fQvCp2B7GIzOy5Y/s1600/IMG_6980.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNdJo6PAhZ6mn3j7OVg2vj7QCqSJT7iJWCJKfP0j17ywzggP4DE7ngvD46vhfExo4wIyKZkrRb8n1KXdPq7sy2K2x3SmRpOxDYF_Q1Lik-opd22CakbnJJC3TWGOi8fQvCp2B7GIzOy5Y/s640/IMG_6980.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYI_XAOSmllfUMGuLxS6OCO5vqy6NeeX2o1TFEBu76qj8JIGTXvzdSVYXzgMpnby5_Unxo6FkHDmj2QNA8KzWRBHYhioMNnmc3yUqC3MVvMoQqcocN9E0hI7T4YrpwgxaOP0NGkpOf1Y/s1600/IMG_6981.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiYI_XAOSmllfUMGuLxS6OCO5vqy6NeeX2o1TFEBu76qj8JIGTXvzdSVYXzgMpnby5_Unxo6FkHDmj2QNA8KzWRBHYhioMNnmc3yUqC3MVvMoQqcocN9E0hI7T4YrpwgxaOP0NGkpOf1Y/s640/IMG_6981.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
The previous superintendent had been spot on follow these recommendations, so all I was responsible for was continuing this<i> program</i> throughout the rest of the 2016 season. <br />
<br />
Let's break down the cost of this<i> program</i>. And if you don't feel like delving into the particulars, you're more than welcome to scroll past all this nonsense to see how much money the previous superintendent and myself spent on trying to <i>balance</i> soils during the 2016 season.<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>Greens (3.5 acres):</b><br />
<br />
To supply our greens with the 1.5 lbs. of granular nitrogen required 32 bags of 19-0-19 (*3)<br />
<ul>
<li>32 forty pound bags x $51.50 per bag = $1,648.00</li>
</ul>
<div>
Cost of designer spoon feeding program to deliver approximately one pound of N = $7,345.50 (foliar app: $145.74/acre, soil app: $66.13/acre) (*4)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
.75 pounds of Phosphorus (10-50-00)</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>4 fifty pound bags x $24.50 = $98.00</li>
</ul>
<div>
3.5 pounds of Potassium (0-0-50)</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>19 fifty pound bags x 25.50 = $484.50</li>
</ul>
<div>
Magnesium</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>pro-mag36, 20 bags for audit rate x $36.00 = $720.00</li>
</ul>
<div>
Calcium, Micro Nutrients & Special Materials: See footnote (*4)</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Total Cost Greens: $10,296.00</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
<b>Fairways (19.5 acres)</b></div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
To supply our fairways with 2 pounds of granular nitrogen required 110 bags of a 28-0-14 custom blend poly coated material (*5)</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>110 fifty pound bags x 49.75 = $5,472.50 </li>
</ul>
<div>
250 gallon tote of liquid 30-0-0 to spoon feed 1 pound through summer</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>$1,750.00</li>
</ul>
<div>
.75 pounds of Phosphorus (10-50-00)</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>24 fifty pound bags x $22.50 = $540.00</li>
</ul>
<div>
4 pounds of Potassium (0-0-50) (*6)</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>120 fifty pound bags x $22.75 = $2,730.00</li>
</ul>
<div>
Magnesium</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>pro-mag36, 50 bags for audit rate x $36.00 = $1,800.00</li>
</ul>
</div>
<div>
Micro Nutrients</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>11 five gallon cases of micro mix = $2,320.00</li>
</ul>
<div>
Special Material</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>4 cases of Exalt = $2,100.00</li>
</ul>
<div>
<b>Total Cost Fairways: $16,712.50</b></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>Tees (2.5 acres)</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
To supply our tees with 1.5 pounds of granular nitrogen required 10 bags of a 28-0-14 custom blend poly coated material</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>10 fifty pound bags x $49.75 = $497.50</li>
</ul>
<div>
35 gallons of liquid 30-0-0 to spoon feed 1 pound through summer</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>35 x $7:00/gallon = $245.00</li>
</ul>
<div>
.75 pounds of Phosphorus (10-50-00)</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>3 fifty pound bags x $22.50 = $67.50</li>
</ul>
<div>
4.25 pounds of Potassium (*7)</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>17 fifty pound bags x $22.75 = $386.75</li>
</ul>
<div>
Magnesium</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>pro-mag36, 10 bags for audit rate x $36.00 = $360.00</li>
</ul>
<div>
Micro Nutrients</div>
</div>
<div>
<ul>
<li>7.5 gallons of micro mix = $315.00</li>
</ul>
<div>
<b>Total Cost Tees: $1,871.75</b><br />
<br />
That's quite some loot for a plant nutrient grand total of,<b> $28,880.25 </b>for the entire 2016 season.<br />
<br />
And this is how I rolled for ten seasons as a superintendent. I followed those soil recommendations pretty tough, and would never think of cutting any of this from any budget I prepared. It was my firm belief that this was the sole and correct way to produce healthy playing surfaces, despite the financials. These numbers were non negotiable, and if I was running your greens department, you had better be able to pony up the dough for this specific style of greenkeeping.<br />
<br />
But then I got turned on to the Minimal Levels of Sustainable Nutrition and using Growth Potential to time nitrogen applications. Going into the 2017 season I used the same person who did the soil tests and recommendations for the the 2016 season, and guess what? His recommendations were nearly identical to the previous season. But I did not adhere to them like I would have in the past. Instead, I focused on supplying the plant with only what was necessary, as opposed to<i> </i>a full on inputpalooza. No longer did I feel it was necessary to<i> balance</i> our growing medium.<br />
<br />
Below is a photo of a soil test taken from our 11th green prior to the 2017 season. Notice the blue bars noting the <i>sufficiency</i> level of each nutrient. In the past, I would've been tweeking over any nutrient in the <i>deficient, low </i>or <i>high</i> category. Going into the 2017 season, I couldn't have cared less. My focus was on ensuring the nutrients in our soils were above the MLSN guidelines.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWC7jo14wxWf0OuCfVYVU9TzhqLO2VV6eiGUVMOEwJOTV4j9mdRYLVwp9qu_-bsGvrPYiuQ_ABGm6PSlCd7PRAf2AlODd9PSyPJ5ksYCLbt_YJrHBx-kKhLc8QsV3Y_p0NvKkRfU1XNGE/s1600/IMG_6785.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWC7jo14wxWf0OuCfVYVU9TzhqLO2VV6eiGUVMOEwJOTV4j9mdRYLVwp9qu_-bsGvrPYiuQ_ABGm6PSlCd7PRAf2AlODd9PSyPJ5ksYCLbt_YJrHBx-kKhLc8QsV3Y_p0NvKkRfU1XNGE/s640/IMG_6785.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<u>MLSN Guidelines</u> <u>11 Green</u></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
pH: > 5.5 pH: 6.4</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Potassium: 37 ppm Potassium: 79 ppm</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Phosphorus: 21 ppm Phosphorus: 82 ppm</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Calcium: 331 ppm Calcium: 531 ppm</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Magnesium: 47 ppm Magnesium: 90 ppm</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sulfur: 7 ppm Sulfur: 9 ppm</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
So according to the MLSN guidelines this putting surface was supplied with enough of any one nutrient to perform. But I have to take into account that the plant is going to use what is there so I applied Potassium sulfate in small doses to ensure the K levels on this particular green did not fall below the MLSN guidelines. The other greens I had tested pretty much mimicked these results with slight variations here and there, but no putting surface showed any nutrient falling below the MLSN guidelines. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Here is a photo of the soil test results of 10 fairway prior to the 2017 season.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiA9g_tTKxeh4OGcNEEERJlb9rX1jA2WLjBR0BextVL_qavi_jpJFHf9mVwDK3RrnlWmw8zIwzq4bi_6EWKD6j-3B7bfGL9cablqz4EIC_ggJOe_pqu-BuJ-CAMYxYX3ib288RZMzP5-E/s1600/IMG_6982.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiA9g_tTKxeh4OGcNEEERJlb9rX1jA2WLjBR0BextVL_qavi_jpJFHf9mVwDK3RrnlWmw8zIwzq4bi_6EWKD6j-3B7bfGL9cablqz4EIC_ggJOe_pqu-BuJ-CAMYxYX3ib288RZMzP5-E/s640/IMG_6982.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<u style="text-align: justify;">MLSN Guidelines</u><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><u style="text-align: justify;">10 Fairway</u><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
pH: > 5.5 pH: 6.1</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Potassium: 37 ppm Potassium: 144 ppm</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Phosphorus: 21 ppm Phosphorus: 47 ppm</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Calcium: 331 ppm Calcium: 1050 ppm</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Magnesium: 47 ppm Magnesium: 167 ppm</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sulfur: 7 ppm Sulfur: 15 ppm</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
Again, none of the nutrients fall below the MLSN guidelines, and with the exception of Phosphorus, it looks like I have a well stocked reserve of nutrients for seasons to come.<br />
<br />
This next photo is of the soil test results on 10 tee prior to the 2017 season.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrCvM8PKwYeDAFsrIyhbHsIus1f35h5K-B6WEKg6X3nJAxAVtJy9G4QSuB7QK4MWQJdzjwGGisjAdw_iAHBfj01dLkdS2bQfMuQsthXfgnYBpnFXa6DeORyKjc3DjEftmEBUlnhDUWRl8/s1600/IMG_6814.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrCvM8PKwYeDAFsrIyhbHsIus1f35h5K-B6WEKg6X3nJAxAVtJy9G4QSuB7QK4MWQJdzjwGGisjAdw_iAHBfj01dLkdS2bQfMuQsthXfgnYBpnFXa6DeORyKjc3DjEftmEBUlnhDUWRl8/s640/IMG_6814.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
<u>MLSN Guidelines</u> <u>10 Tee</u><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
pH: > 5.5 pH: 6.3</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Potassium: 37 ppm Potassium: 34 ppm</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Phosphorus: 21 ppm Phosphorus:39 ppm </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Calcium: 331 ppm Calcium: 328 ppm</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Magnesium: 47 ppm Magnesium: 45 ppm</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Sulfur: 7 ppm Sulfur: 7 ppm<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
This test result really shows off the simplicity of the MLSN philosophy pertaining to managing soils. The nutrients supplying the turf on this specific tee fall below the recommended guidelines so the decision to add Potassium, Phosphorus, Calcium and Magnesium was fairly simple (*8). And that's exactly what I did! The other tees tested were all well above the proposed MLSN guidelines, so in theory, I did not have to add any inputs on these tees. It simply was my choice to add or not to add.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
So what did I do in 2017?</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The first decision I made was to eliminate the use of granular based sources of any kind, while choosing to melt down ag grade materials, like feed grade urea, and potassium sulfate in an effort to feed our turf in small doses. I stopped placing a target on pounds of Nitrogen applied throughout a season, and based Nitrogen applications on Growth Potential, measuring the clipping yield on greens, and observation. With the exception of iron, supplementing with micros was no longer in play, and that costly designer spoon feeding program applied on putting surfaces, along with that <i>special material</i> was deemed totally unnecessary (*8). By taking this simplified approach I was able to dramatically reduce costs. Again, if you don't feel like plowing through the breakdown, feel free to scroll past this nonsense to the good part....the cost savings!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>Greens (3.5 acres):</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<ul>
<li>46-0-0 feed grade urea (10 lbs./acre to deliver 1/10th of a pound of N)</li>
<li>Potassium sulfate (10 lbs./acre to deliver 1/10th of a pound of K)</li>
<li>Ferrous sulfate (2 lbs./acre)</li>
</ul>
<div>
Cost per acre: $11.16</div>
<div>
Cost to treat 3.5 acres: $39.06</div>
<div>
Cost for 11 applications 2017: $468.72 </div>
<div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div>
<b>Fairways/Tees (22 combined acres):</b></div>
<div>
</div>
<br />
<ul style="text-align: left;">
<li>46-0-0 feed grade urea (10 lbs./acre to deliver 1/10th of a pound of N)</li>
<li>Potassium sulfate (10 lbs./acre to deliver 1/10th of a pound of K)</li>
<li>Ferrous sulfate (2 lbs./acre)</li>
</ul>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Cost per acre: $11.16</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Cost to treat 22 acres: $245.52</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Cost for 8 applications 2017: $1,964.16</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Plant Nutrient Costs 2017: $2,432.88</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Plant Nutrient Costs 2016: $28,880.25</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>Total Savings: $26,447.37</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
If you don't think this is a significant savings, then I'm sorry, but you're a full on knucklehead. And perhaps you're thinking, "how did the surfaces perform" which is a very logical question to ask. In all honesty, they performed remarkably well, and it seemed like the less we messed around with things, the better the plant reacted. This is why I firmly believe MLSN will save middle class golf. A hair over twenty six grand is quite the chunk of change, and it is my honest opinion that this savings helped our club survive. <br />
<br />
By implementing MLSN to manage nutrient levels in the soil, along with using Growth Potential and other tactics to time Nitrogen applications was certainly a game changer for me. It reinvigorated my interest in greenkeeping like you wouldn't believe, and improved my mettle as a turf manager. For the first time in my career, I honestly feel like an environmental steward, and not some poser that produces green playing surfaces for the sole purpose of keeping my job. I took a calculated risk, and it paid off.<br />
<br />
<i>Footnotes </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>1) I snaked this power point bit from The Office.</i><br />
<i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_2Hh-UGm8I">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i_2Hh-UGm8I</a></i><br />
<br />
<i>2) I want to make this absolutely crystal clear that I appreciate Mr. Armen Suny and the contributions he has made to our industry. I have called Mr. Suny about job positions on a few occasions, and he has always taken the time to respond while giving me sound advice. If you have not listened to the podcast where he and Dave Wilber discuss resumes and job interviews, you definitely should. It's worth a listen. But what bums me out about Mr. Suny is his opinion concerning MLSN. I just wish he was more open minded about it, because he does hold the purse strings for some of the most coveted positions in our industry. Which I realize, I have totally screwed myself out of scoring any of these jobs, and I'm totally cool with this. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>3) This application also supplied 1.5 pounds of K</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>4) Designer spoon feeding program supplied calcium, micros & special material</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>5) I inherited this crap, and even before I was turned on to less expensive N sources, I was still appalled at the price of this product. Couldn't believe it!</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>6) No foliar K was applied to fairways even though it was recommended. All supplemental K was applied in granular form.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>7) Same deal on tees. No foliar K was used even though it was recommended. All supplemental K was applied in granular form.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>8)This tee still looked pretty awesome despite its nutrient levels being below the MLSN guidelines.</i><br />
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<br />Joseph Gulottihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06476792516565348601noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655825762649810123.post-12938644903035585772017-12-17T16:21:00.001-08:002017-12-17T16:21:56.766-08:00Part 1: The Keyboard is Mightier Than the Fist. How MLSN Will Save Middle Class GolfThroughout my entire career as a head greenkeeper, I've worked for middle class clubs with the exception of my first gig, which wasn't a club per say, but a daily fee joint built smack dab in the middle of six hundred middle class shitboxes and townhouses. The middle class isn't foreign to me, and being a product of middle America, it seems fitting I manage turf for those golfers working tough to earn that middle class wage. On more than one occasion, I have tried to land a job at one of those upper echelon clubs where the majority of the male members sport Brook Brothers slacks and Salvatore Ferragamo loafers without socks (*1). And if you have read my blog, or know me personally, you may question why I would desire to work for a club where the one percenters rule. Perhaps it was driven by ego, and my wanting to prove I can grow grass with the best of them. But honestly, I know I can hang, so this rationalization of wanting to prove myself, was in reality, just a cruel mind trick where I was only trying to justify the real reasons of wanting to schlep it up at some high class joint. The true reason for desiring a position of this stature was fairly simple. Money.<br />
<br />
At my first gig, I made a pretty decent salary, and the annual operating budget was just under seven hundred grand. Because it was surrounded by a zillion craptacular shitboxes, each person living in one of these homes had to pay an annual fee that contributed to the course's operating budget which, in my opinion, was pretty ingenious. This annual fee pretty much guaranteed that the course was always going to be there no matter how good or bad the receipts were at the gate. This set up definitely gave me a sense of security, particularly since the mortgage bubble had just burst, and people weren't playing golf all that much. But I fucked up, got on the bad side of the pro, lost some grass, got backdoored by another greenkeeper and was fired (*2).<br />
<br />
Fortunately, I wasn't unemployed too long and was able to secure a job at what I thought was a stable private club. They had just received an influx of members from a club that had just shit the bed so things seemed to be looking up. My annual operating budget was just a hair over a half mil, with promises of improving, and everything went really well those first two seasons. Season three is when this club, "shit the bed" as members left in droves, and the operating budget was slashed by nearly a hundred grand (*3). Although the reduction in my budget did annoy the shit out of me, it was the non payment to my vendors which genuinely pissed me off. It's pretty fucking tough going into a season when you're thirty thousand deep to your vendors from the previous year, so I quickly surmised this particular situation wasn't ideal.<br />
<br />
I suffered through three seasons of slow pay bullshit before landing my current position at another mid tier club. They're not quite as bad off as the previous shit show where I was the MC of green, but the financial struggle is definitely real. Which gets me back to my point. Money was the sole reason driving my desire to keep greens for the Salvatore Ferragamo set, and it wasn't because I was looking for an improved salary (*4). I just wanted to work at a joint where the vendors didn't cut me off in August, the fuel tanks remained relatively filled, and making payroll was nary a concern (*5). It's pretty frustrating working at a club that resembles one of the many flop houses I lived in during my early twenties. I honestly thought my days of suffering through stretches of no electricity, cold showers, and using crumpled up pages from the phone book as an alternative to toilet paper were way behind me (*6). It's not too bad when you're twenty something, but at forty, it's pretty beat shivering your ass off in an office because the club hasn't paid the goddamn heating bill (*7).<br />
<br />
Since 2014 I've blasted off my resume to all the up scaler job postings within a fifty mile radius of my killer brick ranch house and haven't even received one interview request. And I know my cover letter and resume are strong because I listened to that Turfgrass Zealot podcast with Armen Suny, where they specifically discuss resume writing, a million times.. My shit was definitely dialed in, but for some reason, I was never chosen for an interview. And here's the catch. Armen Suny has held the purse strings for three really terrific gigs in my region. Three positions I have applied for sending him resumes and cover letters concisely tailored in an effort to impress him!<br />
<br />
On the third try I actually received a phone call from Mr. Suny and as we were discussing my credentials, which by the way, hit on every bullet point of the posting, he basically called me a jumper. I really couldn't argue his point, because I had been jumping from gig to gig the past couple of years, but I explained how I just wanted to work for a club with some sort of stability. His response,<br />
<br />
"I don't care how good the story is, you still look like a jumper".<br />
<br />
His advice was to stay at my current gig another year. <br />
<br />
I was bummed, because I honestly felt I would've been a pretty good fit for this club despite what Mr. Suny described as my jumpiness. This particular job seemed right in my wheelhouse, so in a last ditch effort to attempt the dissuade I asked,<br />
<br />
"Are you going to the Penn State Turf Conference? I'm doing a presentation."<br />
<br />
"You are?" was his response. "What are you talking about?" he then inquired.<br />
<br />
"The art of minimalist green keeping," I replied.<br />
<br />
"Oh." he said. "I've heard about some superintendents that have stopped core aerating."<br />
<br />
In hindsight, I probably should have steered him toward my epic blog post, "Cussing Down Core Aeration", but I needed to convince this guy I was a solid greenkeeper, despite my penchant of jumping from job to job like a left handed reliever with mediocre stuff (**8). So I immediately delved into what I know best, and mentioned how I began implementing MLSN this past season with excellent results. <br />
<br />
And this is when things got real uncomfortable.<br />
<br />
Let's just say, Mr. Suny is not a fan of MLSN. And I wish I could recall his exact words, but he growled something along the lines of, "if anyone doesn't think the balance between Calcium and Magnesium percentages isn't important, than that person needs to get back to college and take an entry level soils class."<br />
<br />
I was fucking stunned. Because here's a guy, who uses the word, "anarchist" in the title of his blog and specifically states in his job postings that he desires a, "creative turf manager with strong agronomic skills that stays current with advances in turf technology."<br />
<br />
Well, I really don't know what's more creative and current than MLSN! And growth potential, and flexible fertilizer systems, and measuring clipping yields, and using growing degree days to time plant growth regulator applications, and bio char, and....<br />
<br />
This is how I assumed our conversation was going to progress after I mentioned MLSN, figuring he would be so impressed with my knowledge about the latest in turf management trends, I was guaranteed at the very least, an interview. But old Armen wasn't hearing shite, and he immediately pretended (I allege) to take another call. Before hanging up, he did say he was going to call back, but never did.<br />
<br />
I was pissed, but not because I got screwed out of an interview. It was Mr. Suny's utter angst towards MLSN that aggravated the hell out of me. I just couldn't fathom, a person of his stature, pretty much a pillar of our trade, totally disregarding the people who developed this alternative approach to managing soils in an effort to make our jobs as greenkeepers less burdensome. Even though I do not know Dr. Larry Stowell, Dr. Wendy Gelertner or Dr. Micah Woods personally, I took it personally, and honestly felt like Mr. Suny had full on dissed my good friends. This anger lingered for days, and obviously it's still hanging, but I have since cooled off a bit realizing the broader scope of this drama.<br />
<br />
I'm really not meant to manage turf for the one percenters. My greenkeeping path lies with the middle class, because these are the people I am most familiar with, and in all honestly, where I belong. Stumbling upon the MLSN guidelines was not a coincidence. It was totally meant to happen, and I can honestly say, by implementing this approach to managing soils, it probably helped our club survive at least another year, but more importantly, kept me in a job! I saved our club a shit ton of cash, because I made a decision not to manage soils the, "Armen Suny" way. If Mr. Suny wants to continue hiring greenkeepers that waste time, inputs, and most importantly, money because he firmly believes interpreting soil data in a way that agriculture has disregarded since the early eighties, then have at it.<br />
<br />
The Minimal Levels of Sustainable Nutrition Soil Guidelines are a,<i> "more sustainable approach to managing soil nutrient levels that can help you decrease fertilizer inputs and costs, while still maintaining desired turf quality and playability levels" </i>(*9). But to me, MLSN is more than sustainability, reducing costs, inputs, and making sure your soils are supplied with the adequate levels of nutrients. For me, MLSN is about getting my environmental compass pointing north, and contributing to saving middle class golf. In part two of this blog, I'll explain how I'm going to pull this off by showing the significant savings I made by using MLSN (*10).<br />
<br />
<i>1) Obviously, they can afford socks, but choose not to sport them for some reason. Rich dudes must have smelly feet.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>2) I did get hosed pretty tough. And for years I placed blame all over the place. I blamed the pro, and the dude who really did snake my job. But after years of reflection, I realized something. Bottom line....I just did not do a good enough job, and deserved to be fired. Getting shit canned is tough to accept, but in all honestly it was good thing. I am a better greenkeeper for it.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>3) Members didn't roll because of playing conditions. Despite my abuse of inputs, the membership loved what our staff was accomplishing. Greed was a the main reason members left in droves. Coupled with the total ineptness of the board of governors. That place was a shit show!</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>4) Not that I would mind a bump in pay!</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>5) I remember vividly taking a two ton jack and lifting up the back end of the fuel tank to get those extra gallons of fuel leaning towards the front end where the intake pipe was situated. What a pain in the ass, but shit, we had to fuel our fairway mowers somehow.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>6) One of our favorite bits when using the pages from the phone book as shit tickets was telling whomever, that I looked up your name in the phone book, tore out that page, and wiped my ass with it. As I reflect back, I realize I was a total degenerate.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>7) The heat was shut off regularly at my prior gig. It has not happened at my current position.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>8) In my opinion, "stuff" is a lazy word, and the word itself, kind of annoys the shit out of me. I think the word, "stuff" is only appropriate when describing a pitcher's repertoire of pitches. For example...."Jamie Moyer has good stuff".</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>8) Check out my epic blog, "Cussing Down Core Aeration". Perhaps my greatest hit!↓</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<a href="http://www.thewalkinggreenkeeper.com/2017/05/cussing-down-core-aeration.html"><i>http://www.th</i>ewalkinggreenkeeper.com/2017/05/cussing-down-core-aeration.html</a><br />
<br />
<i>9) How Pace Turf describes MLSN ↓</i><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.paceturf.org/PTRI/Documents/1202_ref.pdf">https://www.paceturf.org/PTRI/Documents/1202_ref.pdf</a><br />
<br />
<i>10) I have to write a column for the February issue of Golfdom, before I begin writing part 2 of this blog. Can you believe I got a gig writing a column for Golfdom because of this blog? So stoked they took a chance on me. Seth Jones and Buddy Gannon rule (Buddy was the one who stumbled upon this piece). My goal is to have part 2 of this blog published around the middle of January.</i><br />
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<br />Joseph Gulottihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06476792516565348601noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655825762649810123.post-37587577654367286592017-08-29T16:12:00.000-07:002017-08-29T16:12:12.272-07:00The Desperate Plight for Skilled LaborBack in the day, it seemed like you could snag people off the street to fill vacant greenkeeping positions , like picking crabgrass off untreated plots of turf. At least once or twice a week, it was pretty much guaranteed some joker would pop in asking for a job, so I have to ask.....what the fuck happened?<br />
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For the past year I've attempted to fill our, "spray tech" position to no avail. The first kook I hired texted me the evening before he was scheduled to start, talking some shit about a doctor's appointment. For a little perspective, his start date was the day after America's birthday, so my immediate thought was, "this is totally sketchy". Now I'm no, Jimmy McNulty, but it certainly didn't require the instincts of a homicide detective to figure out this wanker was most likely tipping back a few beavos with his boys and definitely wasn't feeling a 5:30am start. And to say I haven't been in this similar situation back when raising hell was my primary gig, and weedeating pond banks was basically a secondary responsibility of mine would be a gross understatement. I knew the deal, but letting this clown get away with such a weak ass excuse just didn't seem copacetic. Bring a doctors note on the sixth or don't even bother showing up is what I instructed him via text, and not even an hour later, this moron comes back at me saying how he was able to go online and reschedule his appointment (*1). Go figure. The next morning, this patriot comes sauntering in ten minutes late like everything is cool, and had no idea his future at Newark Country Club had been decided six minutes prior to his late arrival. Perhaps if he didn't attempt to weasel out of his first day on the job, I might've overlooked him being late, but things weren't really jumping off to an ideal start. Letting him go seemed like the logical choice, so I politely told him to hit the road. Surprisingly, he didn't seem too pissed.<br />
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The second person I hired actually lasted longer than four minutes, but he wasn't all that great. Out of the three people I scheduled to interview after the patriot debacle, this kid won by default. But is it truly a, "victory" when one of the candidates doesn't even show, and the other rolls up sporting his fanciest Lee dungarees and a Bud Light t-shirt? (*2) Fortunately, the kid who scored the job seemed genuinely into it and excited to start. Unfortunately, he was perhaps the biggest space I ever met in my life. And being a person who toured with The Grateful Dead in my late teens, it's definitely not a stretch for me to say I know spacey when I see it, and this kid ranked right up there with the spaciest of the spaced out wingnuts I ever encountered while galavanting around the United States following The Dead. Although this kid was very likable, "spacey" certainly isn't a characteristic you desire for a spray technician. He lasted just over a month.<br />
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It's been quite the ordeal, and one year later I still have not found a capable person to fill this position, and I know I'm not alone! All of my greenkeeper peeps are feeling the labor pool pains, and it certainly is a topic that regularly arises amongst my colleagues. Personally, I totally get why I attract junkies for this crucial position, because I'm offering junkie wages. Junkies seem surprisingly attracted to fourteen bucks an hour, with no overtime or health bennies, and getting laid off for two to three months in the winter. Oh, but they do get free golf and a nifty uniform. Recently I was chatting with a member of our club about the labor situation, and he came up with the old, "why don't you just hire some Mexicans?" I didn't know whether to vomit, punch him in his stupid mouth, or play dumb with a phony snicker. Although I preferred option two, I chose another option.....the truth. Mexicans or as I prefer, Latin Americans have totally figured out their worth, and they aren't down with junkie wages. They demand more than what I'm offering, and rightfully so. My friends from Mexico City, Tenancingo, Oaxaca and Michoacan , along with my amigos from Guatemala and Ecuador have paid their dues in the greenkeeping game and have since moved on. They're building our houses, paving our roads, repairing our cars, working year round while earning a much better wage doing these trades rather than raking a goddamn bunker edge for nine bucks an hour. The Latin American labor pool that was so prevalent twenty years ago in our industry has been drained. And those Latin Americans sill hanging around in golf course maintenance are more than likely Vice Executives of Agronomy and Head Greenkeepers. I used to love ripping Spanglish on a daily basis. Unfortunately the only time I speak it now is at the Taqueria.<br />
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The industry of greenkeeping, particularly when it comes to golf courses is full on hurting for qualified people to fill our workforces (*3). So what in the hell are we going to do to about this incontestable epidemic? As you can imagine, I have some ideas.....<br />
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My beautiful wife, whom I love more than any other person on this earth, teaches in a gifted and talented program for fifth graders in our state. She's the one who should be writing a blog about her gig, because teaching wickedly smart ten year olds is way more interesting than nitrogen, chinch bugs and manganese. Pretty much the best part of my day is hanging out with her after work, sipping drinks, while she regales me with stories about her students. They're usually hilarious, but a couple of months ago she came home with a story that truly pulled on my heart strings. <br />
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Immigration is a topic of the fifth grade curriculum, and while my wife was teaching this lesson, a mother of one of her students visited her classroom to recount her story about immigrating from Vietnam to America. Just prior to the fall of Saigon, her mother, father and seven siblings, ranging from sixteen to a year old, crammed onto an overcrowded fishing boat for the sole purpose of finding refuge from their war torn country. During the trip the boat broke down and they had to wait for another boat to rescue them. When this boat finally arrived, all the passengers had to hop from the broken vessel and on to the rescue boat in the middle of the South China Sea. She explained to my wife's students how she was just five years old, and terrified beyond belief, to attempt what undoubtedly was, the most important leap of her life. And if you're wondering about the one year old....the mother made this jump while cradling the baby in her arms. Following this harrowing experience they finally made it to the refugee camp which was located in Thailand. They remained in the camp for nearly a year, before a family in Philadelphia sponsored them to come to America. As this family of nine from Vietnam arrived in the states, not knowing the language nor culture, they willingly shacked up with this sponsor family, who also had six kids of their own. The father eventually scored a job as a janitor at a church just south of Philly in Wilmington, Delaware, and this girl, who fled the communist oppression of her country, jumped from one boat to another in the middle of the South China Sea, lived in a refugee camp for a year, shacked up with six white kids in Philly, went on to become a well respected high school English teacher in our state. <br />
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I welled up pretty tough after hearing this story, but my feelings of sorrow soon regressed to anger due to the political climate that is currently permeating throughout the good old USA. It really got me thinking about the millions of refugees fleeing the terrible conflict in Syria, and how if we were just a bit more empathetic as a nation, we would be welcoming these Muslims with open and caring arms, instead of labeling them as terrorists and haters of western democracy, therefore denying them entry into what used to be, the greatest country in the free world. Why is our buffoon of a president leading this charge? He is a golf course owner, shouldn't he know better? Doesn't he realize he is denying us the opportunity to flood not only our industry, but the countless other skilled trades searching for affordable labor? Instead of lowering the immigration quota, we should be upping it! And before everyone goes all Breibart news on my ass, please let me ask you this simple, two part question. Would you rather have some white, junkie ass stiff American who can't make it to work until forty five minutes after staring time because he has to wait in line to score his fucking suboxone, or a refugee from Syria that has fled his war torn nation in hopes of better life? Who do you think is going to rake that bunker edge, or weedeat that pond bank with more authority and determination for nine bucks an hour? My well earned loot is on the Syrian, and if he happens to be some goddamn ISIS prick guised as a proponent of western culture, and decides to blow my meaningless life to smithereens with a homemade bomb derived from products he pilfered from our chemical building, I will gladly make this sacrifice. Because I'll probably have received some quality hours from this guy, and if my fellow greenkeepers throughout the states have reaped the benefits of a Syrian workforce that truly walks the line, then I would totally deem my life expendable for the betterment of our industry. Most people in this world are good, and I truly believe if we were to allow Syrian refugees into our country, they would work their asses off for us., not blow us the fuck up. We as an industry should be pushing for this.<br />
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Preparing my budget last year was not fun. Similar to how the middle class of America is vanishing so are the private clubs that cater to the middle class. I am currently employed by one of these mid tier clubs, and to put it lightly, we're hurting. It seemed like every time I met with the budget committee they would cue up the Friday the 13th score and slash down my budget pretty tough. One idea I did propose, and I thought it was truly brilliant, was to use the technological advancements of today's modern equipment to our economic advantage. I proposed purchasing one of those spiffy new wider than average rollers that basically roll an entire putting surface in a minute instead of hiring a seasonal employee. Because I roll more than I mow, the justification was we could roll greens much faster with this more modern roller than the piece of crap we currently own. Old roller = 3.5 to 4 hours to complete all greens while new roller = 1.5 to 2 hours to complete all greens. The basic gist....Turnover from rolling greens would be much faster, pretty much enabling us to transition more quickly to a second job, therefore deeming it unnecessary to hire an extra seasonal employee. The savings wasn't that significant, but it did cut around a thousand bucks from the overall budget, while upgrading our roller. To my dismay, this well thought out plan was not approved.<br />
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Despite my, "L" at the bargaining table, I did implement some tactics this season to compensate for our labor shortage. One of the first things I did was reduce the size of the fairways. I don't know who came up with this brilliant idea prior to my arrival, but all the landing areas on the fairways were like fifty yards wide (*4). Fifty is probably an exaggeration, but the edges of the landing zones were definitely stretched out to where the last droplet of irrigation landed. And in my professional opinion, this really wasn't the ideal strategy for a single row irrigation system celebrating its thirtieth anniversary, plus it looked aesthetically whack. By interstating our manageable fairway acres from 24 to 19.5 you'd have to be a complete moron not to notice the domino effect it has had on our efficiency and costs savings. Mowing time has been decreased by almost an entire hour which should also equal a pretty nice cost reduction in fuel. Obviously, our pesticide and plant nutrient costs have trended downward, but the one thing, I'm totally jacked about is the actual time it takes us to complete spraying fairways. Last year, our spray rig operated in fourth gear low, creeping at about four miles per hour. It took us all fucking day to spray fairways, and with myself tasked to this duty, it really annoyed the shit out of me that I could listen to an entire Joe Rogan podcast, and not even finish the front nine (*5). Over this past winter, I hooked up some new nozzles, and recalibrated that jawn. Now I'm crushing fairway sprays in second gear high and still have some minutes to spare on that Rogan podcast. I really loathe self promoting, but I'm going to go there. I'm super proud of what I did with our sprayer. Last season I totally dreaded having to spray, only because it took like a million hours. This season, I'm finished by 10:00am which leaves me a pretty full day to accomplish other things that need to be done.<br />
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I could totally add a paragraph here about how implementing the MLSN guidelines has been a gigantic costs savings, therefore giving me some extra dough to throw at labor. And I really can't wait to figure out this ginormous number, but that'll have to wait (*6).<br />
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Pulling little tricks out of my ass definitely has alleviated part of the labor pool issue, but it certainly has not solved the problem. And what about our association? Are they doing anything to curtail this lousy labor trend? You would certainly assume so, but to be completely honest, I personally believe the association isn't doing much. While attending a local chapter meeting prior to the presidential election last year, a lobbyist from our association was a featured speaker. He spoke to us about WOTUS, plus the law which would've required any person earning a salary of less than forty eight grand a year to be compensated with overtime pay, if this person were to work over forty hours a week. Even a hippy like me gets the WOTUS thing, because let's face it; associating the water hazards on our golf course with the Clean Water Act does seem like a bit of a stretch (*7). But I just could not comprehend why this suit was lobbying against improving wages for our industry? Isn't it the association's responsibility to have our best interest at heart? And how is opposing higher wages, particularly for the people who need it most in our trade, the Vice Executives of Agronomy, in our best interest as greenkeepers? To me, lobbying against higher wages favors owners, and the big Walmart style management companies that operate golf courses, not us! And if this law had passed, guess who it most likely fucks? ME!!!!!! The club I currently work for probably doesn't have a sliced drive chance in hell of surviving if they have to pony up for an assistant super, or an assistant pro, or a sous chef, or any other jamoke earning a salary of forty eight thousand a year. And again, just as I'd be willing to sacrifice my life to some jihadist asshole for the betterment of our industry, you better believe I'd be more than willing to sacrifice my job if it meant more cash crammed into the khaki pockets of my brothers and sisters in the greenkeeping game. In my opinion, the association needs to step up.<br />
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Man I've been going off, and I appreciate you hanging tough up to this point. This final thought isn't necessarily a popular one (*8), and I don't ever expect what I'm about to propose is ever going to happen, but I'm going to initiate this conversation anyway. To me, greenkeeping is a skilled trade. You just can't train any yahoo to lay down a frozen rope on a fairway mower, or hand some random jerk a cup cutter and expect the game's final destination, the golf hole, to be perfectly cut while also placed fairly upon a putting surface. Then why do we as an industry insist on paying the people who perform these skillful tasks fast food wages? Perhaps if we were to pay the laborers of greenkeeping a living wage, and offer 401k's , paid sick leave, vacation time , and actual health insurance , as opposed to a free fucking lunch and golfing privileges on Monday afternoons, we might be able to recruit and retain some good people. It is my firm belief , that if our industry were to come together, organize, and establish the means to collectively bargain, this shit labor situation is solved. Roll your eyes. I get it, but the unions of our country used to be the backbone of America. Pretty much every kid I grew up with had a parent associated with a union, and life was good. I'm frustrated with giving our club's money to the companies that monopolize our industry. Why is it that a goddamn fairway mower cost fifty grand and the person operating that piece is making nine lousy dollars an hour! It's maddening, and I say it's about time we start investing in people as opposed to lining the pockets of shareholders who take advantage of the niche market that is golf. I know this union idea is unpopular, and totally far fetched, but I'm a very angry hippy that is highly frustrated with the direction our industry is headed (*9). "Greenkeepers Local". Lets seriously think about it. <br />
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<i>Footnotes</i><br />
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<i>1) I despise having these types of conversations via text. If you can't make it into work, please pick up the phone and call me.</i><br />
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<i>2) I probably would've hired the dude in the Bud Light t-shirt. He had previous greenkeeping experience, but when he mentioned something about wanting to, "fucking kick his old boss's ass", it scared even a hard ass like me.</i><br />
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<i>3) And we're not alone. All the skilled trades are hurting for workers.</i><br />
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<i>4) Guaranteed it was the Golf Pro's idea.</i><br />
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<i>5) Joe Rogan podcasts are extremely long, but I Love me some Rogan!</i><br />
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<i>6) Explaining the costs savings of MLSN will be it's own post. I can't wait to write it!</i><br />
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<i>7) I definitely would not have been upset had WOTUS passed.</i><br />
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<i>8) Perhaps it's more popular than allowing Syrian refugees to fill our labor needs?</i><br />
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<i>9) I'm also generally frustrated with the direction of our country right now. The middle class is vanishing and it is killing me. No one cares about the hardworking people that make this country go. It seems like the only concern of big business is appeasing their stockholders, and this is sad. It wasn't always this way.</i><br />
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<br />Joseph Gulottihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06476792516565348601noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655825762649810123.post-49780405687905435352017-06-13T16:52:00.000-07:002017-06-13T16:53:54.488-07:00The ProcessI love the Philadelphia 76ers. Arguably more than any other team in Philly. I could make a case as to why I love the Phillies equally as much (or more) because baseball does rule, and those Fightens' are such lovable losers. (1*) The Eagles kind of annoy the hell out of me, and the NFL is pretty lame when you truly think about it. (*2) And hockey.....I think the game itself is pretty awesome, particularly when it's played on a street in a pair of Chuck Taylors and Toughskins, while strapping on those plastic Mylec goalie pads, and attempting to block an orange ball from whistling by you into a beat ass Franklin net. Unfortunately hockey fans, your sport has always ranked last among the 4 major American sports in my book, and as youngsters growing up in shithole, middle class suburbia, just a hair south of the City of Brotherly Love, we diligently played all four, imagining ourselves as Mike Schmidt during wiffle ball battles, the Polish Rifle, while chucking the Duke Junior around, and you better believe we all wanted to be everyone's favorite toothless ginger, Bobby Clarke, when ripping wrist shots against the garage door (*3). But I think the argument that spurned more fights when I was a kid, was who got to be the greatest Philadelphia athlete of all time, Julius Erving, when balling in some kid's driveway. Despite the fact that we were all lily white, with hair straighter than Joni Mitchell, and no hope of ever growing up to be six foot fucking six with a banging ass afro, we all wanted to be Doctor J. He was the absolute best, and we were all more than willing to,"drop the gloves" over who got to imagine themselves as number 6. <br />
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I was 11 years old in 1983 when Moses Malone came up one loss short of predicting a "fo, fo, fo" through the playoffs, which fitfully ended, with a parade down Broad Street. (*4) And since that last championship season in, "83", the Sixers have been mired in mediocrity, with the exception of the aught one season when A.I. carried a bunch of bums all the way to the finals before inevitably losing to the team I hate most in all of sports, those lame ass Los Angeles Lakers. (*5) For 30 years, the Sixers have totally blew it, although they came oh so close to stealing a dynasty away from the Chicago Bulls during that legendary draft of 84. My number one team actually attempted to trade their aging superstar, and every kid's favorite basketball player within a 100 mile radius of the Spectrum, Julius Erving, for the third pick in the draft. And every basketball fan knows who was taken 3rd that year, and if you don't, let me remind you.....it was, Michael Jordan, and if you think I'm fabricating this shite hit the link ↓<br />
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<a href="http://www.heraldsun.com.au/sport/the-michael-jordan-trades-that-almost-happened/news-story/2b01a63eaa41048c954e3a5f1a2a0a87">http://www.heraldsun.com.au/sport/the-michael-jordan-trades-that-almost-happened/news-story/2b01a63eaa41048c954e3a5f1a2a0a87</a><br />
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I can't even fathom the idea of Air Jordans being red, white and blue instead of their patented red, white and black. And if Chicago would've agreed to that trade, the Sixers still would have kept their fifth pick, which ended up being that non role model being, husky ass, throwing dudes through bar windows, gambling degenerate, rebounding maniac, Charles Barkley. Check out this starting five.....<br />
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PG: Maurice Cheeks<br />
SG: Andrew Toney<br />
SF: Michael Jordan<br />
PF: Charles Barkley<br />
C: Moses Malone<br />
6th man: Bobby Jones (*6)<br />
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I'll make a safe assumption here and guess that Jordan wins more than six championships if he's a Sixer. Unfortunately, this dream line up never happened, and I , along with all of my boys were stuck watching a bunch of scrubs for the next 3 decades. All I have to say is, Shawn Bradley.<br />
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It's been tough sledding for the Sixers since that glorious 83 season, but nothing has challenged our mettle as fans quite like when our Dark Lord, Sam Hinkie took over as GM, and began what is known throughout the tri-state area as, "The Process" (*7). Basically it involved, gutting the roster of the likes of Jrue Holliday, Evan Turner, and perhaps the biggest white stiff in NBA history since Greg Ostertag, Spencer Hawes, in exchange for ,"assets". Old Hinks got rid of everyone, including Kwame Brown, Swaggy P and the best bowler over seven feet tall the city of Philadelphia has ever seen, Andrew Bynum (*8). "Tanking" is how the media dubbed it, and those curmudgeon beat writers from the Daily News, and The Inquirer were fucking irate at the Dark Lord. How could anyone purposely lose they furiously opined ad nauseam. But despite those grizzled scribes being totally pissed, most fans understood the direction, Old Sam was taking our beloved Sixers. He inherited a roster, that at best, might squeak into the playoffs every year as a seven or eight seed only to get swept out the building, then be totally stuck picking in the middle of the first round of the draft, which in all likelihood gets you another fucking, Spencer Hawes. Basically they were mired in basketball purgatory, and our Dark Lord sent us to the outer reaches of hell with lineups featuring, Tony Wroten, Ish Smith, Hollis Thompson and that Turkish sensation, Turkan Aldemir. They lost, and lost tough, and to be completely honest, it was really difficult to root for a team to actually lose in hopes of lottery balls bouncing our way. The last three seasons have been pretty rough, but it does seem like the Sixers are finally on the upswing. Unfortunately, our Dark Lord, Sam Hinkie won't be in the fold to witness, what he coined "The Process" come to fruition (*9).<br />
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When I became the head greenkeeper at Newark Country Club last summer, I honestly felt akin to Sam Hinkie. Much like my boy, Sammy inheriting a roster full of stiffs, with no shot of ever winning a championship, I inherited a course with a roster full of greenkeeping stiffs.<br />
<ul>
<li>aging single row irrigation system with no central computer or radio control ✓</li>
<li>craptacular bunkers penally placed without any subsurface drainage ✓</li>
<li>invasive plants inundating weak ass flower beds while obstructing crucial airflow adjacent to greens & teeing areas ✓</li>
<li>Bountiful species of<i> acer saccharum</i>,<i> platanus occidentalis</i>, <i>pinus strobus</i> ,<i> liriodendron tulipifera</i>, and a plethora of awful scrub trees with the only thing cool about them are their killer latin binomial names. ✓ (*10)</li>
<li><i>Poa annua </i>as the predominant turf type on greens, fairways and tees ✓ (*11)</li>
</ul>
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Green keeping purgatory? Most definitely, and you better believe I was pointing out the inadequacies like a madman. We needed to upgrade the irrigation system, obliterate all the dated flower beds, fell trees like my man Saruman the White, and definitely smoke the hell out of all that goddamn<i> poa annua</i>. The green committee chairman politely agreed with my aggressive onslaught, but the problem was money. The club just wasn't too flush with the duckets so none of the shite I suggested was going down....at least anytime soon.</div>
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It was frustrating. So frustrating in fact, I seriously flirted with the idea of, dare I say, "tanking". The basic premise of tanking for tougher turfgrass was to let everything go to hell, leaving the club no other choice but to pony up some dough for some serious upgrades. Visions of pallets laden with 007 bentgrass seed waltzed through my head as the idea of purposely fucking up grew stronger each and every time I rolled around setting up irrigation at the satellite boxes (*12). I figured it would be pretty simple, based on the premise of, "its easier to ask for forgiveness than permission", and lest we forget, that I was totally in the infancy stages of my tenure as head greenkeeper at old NCC. Would they fire me for tanking tough during my first season? Perhaps, but despite my wonting of the tank, I just couldn't find the gumption to go through with it. It just seemed way too sketchy and low brow. So instead of purposely fucking everything up, I came up with an alternative plan which I have deemed, "The Process".<br />
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"The Process" began with coming to the realization that I had been a pretty sorry greenkeeper for a lot of years. Hit the link ↓for the full scoop.<br />
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<a href="http://www.thewalkinggreenkeeper.com/2017/03/i-was-total-sellout.html">http://www.thewalkinggreenkeeper.com/2017/03/i-was-total-sellout.html</a><br />
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This season I have simplified things by adhering to the MLSN guidelines, while using Growth Potential to time nitrogen applications. I am also applying plant growth regulators based on growing degree day intervals, and really trying to manage irrigation, "from rain event to rain event" (*13). And I must say, the results from implementing these very simple, yet very thought out, greenkeeping fundamentals has produced noticeable results. For the first time ever, I have greens that are legitimately firm, even during periods of wet because I have purposely held off the water, which in turn, enables our push up constructed greens to accept natural rainfall. Growth has been stupendous and I honestly feel we are in the wheelhouse of Micah Wood's spot on definition of greenkeeping......<br />
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<i>"greenkeeping is managing the growth rate of the grass to create the desired playing surface for golf.</i>" (*14)<br />
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We're mowing greens way less, and our clipping yield has been alarmingly consistent (*15). Last year we'd be hurling baskets into the rough after tri-plexing every other green, where this season, we can cruise through an entire cut, dumping clippings like two to three times total. Black algae has become an afterthought, as well as putting surfaces inundated with spongy footprints. But more importantly, the performance of our greens has been downright sick. I kind of liken the conditions of our surfaces to waves when it comes to surfers. When the swell is kicking, word gets out, and the line up gets crazy packed. (*16). And I can honestly say the word is spreading throughout the golfing community in our small state. The greens at NCC are rolling like glassy, double overheaders, and it's been tough not to notice the uptick in play. Particularly amongst the finer players in our area. <br />
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And I attribute all of our early success as a maintenance staff to a full on change of philosophy pertaining to the art of greenkeeping. My wagon is no longer hitched to an insanely cost prohibitive spoon feeding fertilization program where I'm constantly applying either a foliar or soil spray every fucking week. "The Process" is about control and saving loot. It's about melting down Ag grade urea and ferrous sulfate, which is costing the club around twenty five bucks per greens spray, and making applications when I deem it necessary. It's about regulating growth on growing degree intervals, and applying pesticides soley when environmental conditions are favorable for a full on pest onslaught.<br />
"The Process" is about the simplicity of MLSN, and knowing if the soil has enough of any one nutrient, the turf will perform. "Balanced" soils are all but an afterthought and it's been such a weight off my greenkeeping shoulders knowing I no longer have to worry about having calcium levels in the ballpark of 68 fucking percent. And water.....I have finally learned that our number one, most precious resource can be used in such a manner that can be beneficial for both plant health and playability.<br />
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I'm a competitor. And just like my boy, Sam Hinkie I want to win. Unfortunately I don't have the luxury of a fat television contract to back up a three or four year tank job, so I have to make due with what I have. Sure, our dated irrigation system is a total pain in the ass. I wish our bunkers drained better, and nothing would make me happier than to throw down, Paul Bunyan style and get rid of all the goddamn trees I deem fit to fell. It would be cool if money wasn't a concern, and it would be so rad to slay 007 creeping bentgrass all over the goddamn place. But in all honesty, fuck all of those lame ass excuses. Golfers don't really give two shites about budgets, irrigation systems, , and trees that totally inhibit ideal growing conditions. I can't make our club's budget a million bucks, and a tank job for tougher turf is a novel idea, but isn't really too cool ethically speaking. I know the upscale club up the way has a budget that's nearly triple mine, but I'm up to task to challenge those one percenters any day of the week. Why? Because I'm working, "The Process".....and I'm full on trusting, "The Process". <br />
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<i>Footnotes:</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>1) Phillies: W-9,035 L-10,162 World Series Tiltes: 2</i><br />
<i> Yankees: W-10,120 L-7,671 World Series Titles: 27</i><br />
<i> Puts things into perspective doesn't it?</i><br />
<br />
<i>2) I could write a whole other blog about how beat the NFL has become, but I'll keep it simple for this footnote. Commercials out the ass, watered down talent, a domestic violence case involving an NFl player what seems to be like every other day, fantasy football, and that total jerk Roger Goodell running the entire show. How would you like to get paired up with that dork in a foursome? I think I'd die.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>3)You probably know him as, Jaws, or by his surname, Ron Jaworski. But in 1979, he was, "The Polish Rifle".</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>4) Hit the link ↓ to read about the Moses Malone. "Fo, Fo, Fo" story.</i><br />
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<i><a href="http://theclassical.org/articles/fo-fo-fo-at-thirty">http://theclassical.org/articles/fo-fo-fo-at-thirty</a></i><br />
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<i>5) I go back and forth between the Los Angeles Lakers & St. Louis Cardinals as my most hated squad in all of sports. It's a tough choice but nothing says douche quite like Tony Larussa or Kurt Rambis.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>6) Bobby Jones is the third best white basketball player of all time behind Larry Bird, and Pistol Pete Maravich.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>7) I really wish I knew who nicknamed, Sam Hinkie, "our dark lord". If I ever meet this person, I will gladly buy them many drinks.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>8) Doug Collins who was the coach during that illustrious Andrew Bynum era, had the audacity to ask everyone to, "pray for him" during a news conference. No wonder he got fired.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><i>9) I was near tears when my beloved Sixers "forced" our dark lord to resign.....most likely by the NBA. If you want a good read, hit the link ↓.....warning.....dictionary needed!</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><a href="https://espn.go.com/pdf/2016/0406/nba_hinkie_redact.pdf">https://espn.go.com/pdf/2016/0406/nba_hinkie_redact.pdf</a></i><br />
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<i>10) Common names of trees in order: Sugar Maple, Sycamore, White Pine, Tulip Poplar.</i><br />
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<i>11) I don't mind managing poa annua on greens. In fact, I quite like it as a surface for greens.</i><br />
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<i>12) I really shouldn't bitch, but I will. When I'm out with my boy tipping back a few pints, and a thunderstorm rolls through our area, he can shut off his irrigation with his iPhone. I can't.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>13) Rick Slattery uttered this line about managing water, from, "rain event to rain event" during a podcast with Dr. Frank Rossi. It has really stuck with me as well as other things, Mr. Slattery mentioned concerning our craft. He absolutely rules and if you haven't heard this particular podcast you're totally missing out on getting schooled by one of the all time greats. I love that man and his approach to greenkeeping. And If I was a captain choosing a greenkeeping team, you better believe I'm picking Rick Slattery first! Hit the link ↓ to listen. If you don't you're a total kook.</i><br />
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<a href="http://www.turfnet.com/blog/4/entry-1286-frankly-speaking-with-rick-slattery-2015-elga-winner-and-supt-at-locust-hill-country-club/">http://www.turfnet.com/blog/4/entry-1286-frankly-speaking-with-rick-slattery-2015-elga-winner-and-supt-at-locust-hill-country-club/</a><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>14) When I picked up, 'A Short Grammar of Greenkeeping', by Micah Woods and first read his definition of greenkeeping, it's really hard to describe how stoked I felt. Throughout all my years as a greenkeeper, not one single person ever put what we are trying to accomplish in such simple terms. Not one superintendent, vice executive of agronomy (remember....new title for assistants), spray tech, USGA consultant, golf pro, my dad, Barack Obama....not even any of my instructors from turf school gave me this knowledge. Thanks, Micah! (**1)</i><br />
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<i>15) Mowing 3x a week, rolling other four. Measuring clipping yield off one green and averaging about 2 quarts per mow.</i><br />
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<i>16) I suck so bad at surfing, but have a ton of friends who rip. That's how I understand the importance of swell.</i><br />
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<i>Footnote from footnotes</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>1) I do love, 'A Short Grammar of Greenkeeping' by, Micah Woods, but like surfing, I totally blow at math. And converting everything from metric is honestly tough for me. Even with the help of Google. With that said, it would be awesome if anyone who posesses an above average skill set in math to translate his awesome work for all of us dumb Americans. I would truly appreciate it....and if you haven't read Micah's book....you should. Hit the link ↓ to purchase a copy. Perhaps the best fifteen bucks I've ever spent.</i><br />
<br />
<a href="https://leanpub.com/short_grammar_of_greenkeeping">https://leanpub.com/short_grammar_of_greenkeeping</a><br />
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<br />Joseph Gulottihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06476792516565348601noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655825762649810123.post-73839687021864291232017-05-13T05:00:00.000-07:002017-05-13T05:00:02.008-07:00Cussing Down Core Aeration<i>"The process of aerating is just as tough on the crew, as the playability of aerated greens is on golfers. It takes time to aerate greens because the machines used to accomplish this task run at a turtle's pace. Depending on the size of your greens, it usually takes two operators close to six hours to complete. And that's if one of the machines doesn't break down, which usually seems to happen. The machines themselves are not glamorous by any means. They're basically a 3ft. by 3ft. box on three wheels, powered by a 16 horsepower engine with belts connected to a drive shaft which aggressively move the aeration tines up and down at a frantic pace. Operating one of these fuckers is like wrestling, George the Animal Steel. The clamorous nature of the machine makes it painfully loud, difficult to maneuver, a bit spasmodic, and as previously mentioned, slow as fuck. It's also not a gig where you sit on your ass soaking in the majestic green that is a golf course while daydreaming about how rad Natalie Portman is, because you're constantly stepping with that piece. (*1) </i><i> By the time you're finished punching all those greens, you kind of feel like punching your boss in the face for assigning you such a goddamn awful job. It's a shit job to say the least".</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
This diatribe laced with some pretty choice cuss words, written close to six years ago, was nearly submitted to my green committee chairman for approval of the club's monthly newsletter. After letting our assistant proofread, what I deemed to be a full on masterpiece, that was guaranteed to inject some "life" into the already lifeless piece of crap they deemed a newsletter, our Vice Executive of Agronomy, intelligently swayed me not to submit my cynical but honest take on aeration. (*2) Dejected, I went back to the keyboard, and busted out some weak ass piece of shite that I know most of you have written to your constituents, bullet pointing what we greenkeepers totally consider the "pros" of "core" aerating greens.<br />
<br />
Most of us are in the know as to why we "core" aerate, and if you happen to be some bumbling hack that just happens to stumble across this blog, which by the way, Mr. Latshaw recently cited as,"the hot new blog of 17", hit the link ↓. (*3)<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.usga.org/course-care/forethegolfer/why-do-golf-courses-aerate-so-much-.html">http://www.usga.org/course-care/forethegolfer/why-do-golf-courses-aerate-so-much-.html</a><br />
<br />
Ok. Now that we're all caught up on why we totally fuck up the putting surfaces twice a year, I'm really beginning to question the entire process of core aerating greens. And throughout my entire existence as a greenkeeper, I can honestly say that if some moron golfer ever asked me why punching a million stupid holes on a putting surface is absolutely necessary, I would've given this mindless twat the obligatory tongue lashing as to why, we as greenkeepers, core aerate. For example my brother-in-law, whom is neither mindless or a twat, but is an avid golfer was going off on how lame it is to putt on aerated greens. Honestly, I was a wee bit peeved, but I calmly listened to his rant, then attempted to explain why we do this arduous task twice a season. (*4) Unfortunately, my spiel was pretty much useless, because no matter how tough I attempted to stress the importance of alleviating compaction, enhancing gas exchange, developing stronger roots, removing organic matter, along with all the other force fed lines we greenkeepers love to vomit from our mouths concerning core aerating greens, he just shook his head in disbelief, while uttering a million times, "there has to be another way." Despite my informative lecture, while slightly buzzed on Double Duck Pins, my brother-in-law just wasn't buying it. (*5) And in years past I would've been totally annoyed. And honestly, I was kind of annoyed at his stubbornness. Just accept it, dude.....we have to fucking core aerate greens. But perhaps I was being a moron? What if there was another way?<br />
<br />
If you had asked me last season what my core (no pun intended) fundamental to greenkeeping was, I most likely would've answered,"core aeration". However, my tune has changed significantly, and yes, brother-in-law, I believe there is another way. If the organic matter or thatch on your putting surfaces is totally manageable , and if you can manipulate the growth in a way where the organic matter remains consistent, then why core aerate? I am wholeheartedly committed to micro managing growth this season, to the point where I can roll up on my green committee chairman and confidently tell him we are not core aerating greens the Tuesday following Labor Day. (*6) We've already accomplished our "all important" spring core aerification and trust me, I really wanted to skip it. Unfortunately, at least for me, I just did not have balls to pull a full on skippers, and honestly, I core aerated the greens so I wouldn't have to hear all the goddamn music from the 19th hole. Those dudes know everything you know, and trying to convince a bunch of golfers who are nearly six martinis deep as to why we didn't core aerate the goddamn greens, would've been miserable. So I just decided to punch them up, because in my mind, it was much easier to hear them bitch about bumpy putting surfaces than not core aerating at all. Oxymoron? Definitely!<br />
<br />
This isn't to say I'm totally against core aerification. If the organic matter on your greens are inhibiting performance (both health and playability wise) by all means, have at it. But for my personal situation, the organic accumulation on our putting surfaces is pretty ideal, so I feel confident I can keep it palpable by micro managing growth. And this is how I plan on accomplishing this realistic goal.<br />
<br />
<br />
<ul>
<li>Using Growth Potential to time plant nutrient applications. (I'll let, Dr. Micah Woods explain. Hit link ↓)</li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://www.files.asianturfgrass.com/201306_growth_potential.pdf">http://www.files.asianturfgrass.com/201306_growth_potential.pdf</a></div>
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<br />
<ul>
<li>Basing my growth regulator applications on Growing Degree Day intervals. (I'll let Dr. Bill Kreuser explain. Hit link ↓)</li>
</ul>
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<a href="http://turf.wisc.edu/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/Avoid-the-Rebound-On-Course-5-11.pdf">http://turf.wisc.edu/wp-content/uploads/2011/11/Avoid-the-Rebound-On-Course-5-11.pdf</a></div>
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<ul>
<li>Topdressing. Traditionally, Monday was a day off for our putting surfaces, meaning no mow or roll. This season, I will attempt to topdress every Monday in an effort to match sand with growth. This application will be so light! In fact it will be, "Lighter than a butterfly's wing". (*7) Dr. Jim Kerns explains ↓</li>
</ul>
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<a href="https://www.turfnet.com/news.html/_/producing-healthy-turf-is-a-multi-pronged-strategy-r799">https://www.turfnet.com/news.html/_/producing-healthy-turf-is-a-multi-pronged-strategy-r799</a></div>
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<li>OBSERVATION!!!!!!! I will literally, "look" at the turf and soil to deem if core aerating is necessary this fall. If the organic matter is at a level I deem unacceptable, I will core aerate. What a novel idea....observing.</li>
</ul>
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Similar to how I was so regimented with my pesticide and plant nutrient applications in the past, I was just as anal concerning core aeration. I actually knew of fellas in my network that had not core aerated in years, and personally thought these dudes were a bunch of kooks. In all honesty. I really believed it was only a matter of time before their putting surfaces were completely obliterated by compaction, root loss, thatch, disease, wet wilt, nematodes, metal spikes, algae, moss, ball marks, localised dry spot, weak ass gas exchange, Japanese beetles, Donald Trump or any other evil on this earth, that could destroy a green because of refusing to core aerate. (*8) However, these thoughtful greenkeepers never lost a green as far as I know, and most of them have a reputation for producing some pretty sick putting surfaces. (*9)<br />
<br />
Anyhow...that's my deal. I really don't ever want to core aerate a green ever again, because I'd much rather put that energy into something much more constructive. Say, renovating a couple of bunkers, adding some drainage, clearing some brush, building a kick ass tee, or maybe even leaving at a reasonable hour to slay some Rockfish on the Chesapeake. (*10) If I do regulate growth this season to the point where I don't have to core aerate on the Tuesday following Labor Day, the September news letter will be epic. And I full on guarantee it will be laced with some pretty choice cuss words explaining why we won't be punching a million, fucking, goddamn, bullshit, bitchy ass little holes on our putting surfaces.<br />
<br />
<i>Footnotes:</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>*1- If you're a female greenkeeper replace, Natalie Portman with, Bradley Cooper. If you're a gay male greenkeeper replace, Natalie Portman with, Bradley Cooper. If you're a gay female greenkeeper, leave, Natalie Portman.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>*2-The title of, "Assistant" Superintendent totally blows. I know I despised the title when I was an assistant because an assistant to me is someone who fetches coffee, runs mindless errands and fills their boss's ego with complimentary banter. When I was an assistant I wasn't doing any of that shite. I was applying pesticides, dropping urea bombs, hand watering dry spots, learning how to speak a respectable form of Spanish, while also accomplishing a slew of other craptacular jobs which rarely get recognized nor ever appreciated. </i><i>Therefore, I am (un)officially changing the title of, "Assistant" superintendent to the much cooler, and way more respectable sounding, Vice Executive of Agronomy. This title change has been long overdue.</i><br />
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<i>*3-Mr. Latshaw HAS NOT cited, "The Walking Greenkeeper" as the hot new blog of '17'. I will bet you a sleeve of gently used pinnacles he has no idea who, or what, a "Walking Greenkeeper" is.</i><br />
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<i>*4-I actually LISTENED to my brother-in-law! My New Year's resolution for '17' is to be a much better listener. It seems to me, people just can't wait to interrupt with their opinion without hearing out a person's entire thought. I was a serial offender of this so I am really trying to be a better listener. Perhaps I'll learn something.</i><br />
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<i>*5-Union Craft Brewing, out of Baltimore, Maryland brews this amazing double IPA known as Double Duckpin. I really have not tasted a better beer in my life! </i><i><a href="http://www.unioncraftbrewing.com/">http://www.unioncraftbrewing.com/</a></i><br />
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<i>*6-The only thing I'll ever micro manage is growth!</i><br />
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<i>*7-If you ever rolled cigarettes or another type of tobacco which is green and sticky, you will know that, "lighter than a butterfly's wing" was the motto for the best rolling paper ever made. </i><br />
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<i>*8-Shout to my peeps across the pond who spell, localized with an, "S". I love it!</i><br />
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<i>*9-Sick=really good!</i><br />
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<i>*10-Rockfish are Striped Bass</i></div>
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<br />Joseph Gulottihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06476792516565348601noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655825762649810123.post-46185206392744576252017-04-22T17:26:00.000-07:002017-04-24T11:11:03.617-07:00Insect Armageddon, Hipsters, ABDubs & The Possibility of Tall Fescue?I had this awful thought on the way into work the other morning. What if insects were to blame for the end of human existence? Forget about robots with artificial intelligence taking over Terminator style, the ozone layer breaking down, or God forbid, our dickhead president * and that husky North Korean finally deciding to cross swords and blow our futile lives into oblivion. If I was a betting man (sometimes I am depending on the game) I'd place my pittance of a life's savings on those goddamn bugs. Perhaps you think I'm nuts for coming up with such a far fetched notion, but when you're preparing to battle someone to the death over a can of Spaghettios because insects have totally ravaged our planet, I really hope your final thought is, "Damn, the Walking Greenkeeper called it". <br />
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If you haven't already guessed, Annual Blue Grass Weevil season has kicked off in my part of the world, and forming strategies to eradicate these troublesome little jawns is all consuming. It has consumed me to the point that I actually believe insects might be the death of us all. Three years ago.....or perhaps four, maybe even five....it's so hard to keep track....these irksome pests were nary a blip on my greenkeeping radar. But just like skinny jeans, Vneck t-shirts, Sailor Jerry tattoos, and handlebar mustaches finagling there way onto the Delaware hipster scene via NYC (albeit 3 years too late), so has the annual blue grass weevil. Hipsters are pretty annoying, but let's face it...would you rather chat with a dude who has the skin color of a wraith about who the better Uncle Tupelo spin off band is (I choose Wilco over Son Volt) or would you prefer suiting up on a cold spring day to apply stinky ass Chlorpyrifos in hopes of snuffing out some ABDubs? Tough choice, I know, but as much as I'd like to chat you up on how much I love, "A Ghost Is Born", I'm sorry, Magnus, but the spray rig is calling.<br />
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I had the unfortunate opportunity of beginning my tenure as the head greenkeeper at Newark Country Club during the start of the summer last season. Everything was alright until around the mid stages of August. I'm sure most greenkeepers located on the right coast want to totally forget the epic weather conditions that sometimes miserable broad, mother nature threw at us. It was a pretty brutal August, and if I was crafty enough, I'd create some sort of killer graph to depict just how tenebrific (thanks thesaurus) conditions were. However, I'm not so crafty with the graphing, so you'll just have to take my word for it. I don't know how it was for you, but for me personally, the month of August was totally beat.<br />
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The odd thing was, I honestly felt prepared, despite coming in on another greenkeeper's program mid season. We had our share of nicks and scrapes, but nothing major, and as the mercury climbed into the mid 90's (low to mid 30's for you metric nerds) I wasn't feeling all that bad. In fact, I felt so confident, I rolled out for an extended weekend to the Finger Lakes region of New York for my wife's high school reunion. The reunion was a blast, but when I arrived back to work the following Monday, the course looked entirely different from the one I left 72 hours prior....and not in a good way. Our fairways were obliterated, and as I toured the course that morning, eating white knights* and throwing up coffee in my mouth, I was only comforted by what an old superintendent once told me.....<br />
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"JOSEPH!" he growled, "THERE ARE TWO TYPES OF GREENKEEPERS IN THIS BUSINESS. THOSE THAT KILL GRASS, AND THOSE THAT LIE ABOUT IT!"<br />
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I'm telling you, if it wasn't for nicotine, and that wise old greenkeeper uttering those words to me during the infancy of my career, I most likely would've resorted to managing a WAWA*. It was that debilitating. Eventually I collected myself and began the process of diagnosing what the hell happened, and sure enough, the majority of the damage was inflicted by those pesky ABdubs.<br />
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Despite my attempts to be environmentally responsible, I'm not messing around with the annual bluegrass weevil this season. If applying mercury would kill off generations of these nasty bugs, I'd consider it*. It was that bad last year, and I'm not getting caught with my khakis down again. I've already applied stinky ass Chlorpyrifos at 32oz./acre on all fine turf areas, and as I spoke with a fellow greenkeeper in my network about this latest insecticide app of mine, he mentioned this little tidbit.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/energy-environment/wp/2017/03/29/trump-epa-declines-to-ban-pesticide-that-obama-had-proposed-outlawing/?utm_term=.67fc29c0be14">https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/energy-environment/wp/2017/03/29/trump-epa-declines-to-ban-pesticide-that-obama-had-proposed-outlawing/?utm_term=.67fc29c0be14</a><br />
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In my defense, I did inherit a crap load of this shite from the previous superintendent, and when your annual budget is just a hair over 400k (with 30k of that loot going towards lease payments for equipment) did I really have another choice? Anyway, another 13k of my budget is going towards suppressing ABDubs, and honestly....this irritates the shit out of me.<br />
<br />
When this season is over, I will be addressing our green committee with this idea....<br />
<ul>
<li>we are not going to treat for ABW next season</li>
<li>we are going to let this ornery bug gorge on all the <i>poa annua</i> it desires</li>
<li>when they are finished grubbing down, we are going to seed with a different variety of turf</li>
</ul>
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Basically my thought is to eliminate the host (<i>poa annua</i>), by investing in seed rather than an insecticide program that will continually cost the club 12k to 15k a year. And no need to use glyphosphate or basamid to smoke the fairways. I figure just shutting the water off, and letting those ABDuds party all season should do the trick at a substantially lower cost both financially and environmentally.</div>
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I haven't quite decided on what variety of turf I'm going to propose as a replacement. The obvious choice is that old stand by, creeping bent, but I'm not quite convinced. Bermuda is an option, but definitely comes with some baggage considering our club is in the heart of the transition zone. But there's one variety I've been thinking on that might just work, and I've literally been laughed at when I mention this turf type amongst my peers.....Turf Type Tall Fescue. </div>
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Haha, Haha, Haha, Haha, Haha, Haha, Haha, Haha, Haha, Haha, Haha, Haha, Haha, Haha, Haha!!!!!</div>
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I'll explain why I think Tall Fescue might be a viable option on my next post.....</div>
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<i>* I've just sentenced myself to Trump's Gulag...aka, Guantanamo with this remark.</i></div>
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<i>* White Knights are Marlboro Lights and "eating" them is chain smoking.</i></div>
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<i>*I would never consider using mercury</i></div>
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<i>*WaWa is a chain of convenience stores in the the tri-state area of Delaware, Pennsylvania and New Jersey. Go crush a "classic" when you're visiting one of these fair states.</i></div>
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<i>And Ive been ciggy free since December 6th, 2016!!!!!!!! </i></div>
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<br />Joseph Gulottihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06476792516565348601noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655825762649810123.post-15715529771636740702017-04-03T16:51:00.001-07:002017-04-04T16:24:56.569-07:00Why I Am The Walking Greenkeeper<i>"Golf is a good walk spoiled".</i><br />
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Fuck, Mark Twain. Golf makes a good walk better.<br />
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Perhaps this should be the USGA's new slogan.<br />
<br />
It all started innocently enough when I was around eight years old, and received a set of Junior Wilson golf clubs for Christmas. It was circa 1980 if my memory serves me right, but what I definitely recollect about that Christmas, is not being too stoked on those golf clubs. It was a pretty beat present in my opinion, particularly the weak ass canvas bag that accompanied those sticks. But despite my disappointment, I feigned a genuine interest as to not bum out my father, since he thought it was a pretty sweet gift. And I think we can all agree, the last thing you want to do on Christmas is be a total dick and break one of your parent's heart, because a broken heart isn't really a cool gift to give anyone.....let alone on JC's birthday. <br />
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Anyway......<br />
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When the cold weather snapped, my dad began taking me to the local public course for these three to four hole evening rounds. At first I disliked it pretty tough, because golf is really hard and I had some serious reservations concerning the stereotypes associated with the game. You have to understand, growing up in middle class suburbia, amongst the jerks I associated with, we firmly believed golf was for nerdy guys named Trip or Hunter who sported LaTigre polos and Garanimal slacks. It was full on mission impossible style every time I ducked out of my front door with that crappy canvas bag of Wilsons slung over my shoulder. The last thing I really needed was to be seen by one of my boys throwing that crappy canvas bag full of Wilsons in the trunk of my dad's LTD, and forever be labeled, a dork, a spaz or a geek. But something so unexpected happened as my father and I strolled along those burnt out fairways on those hot steamy evenings which are so prevalent during Delaware summers. It dawned on me that I actually liked golf....a lot. And even though I had no fucking clue at that particular moment in my life, my father had unwittingly presented me with the best Christmas gift perhaps of all time...the game of golf. <br />
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I could go on and on about what I like about golf, but I want to focus on one aspect of the game that in my opinion, has been completely lost over the years. Back when I started, barely anyone used those awkward three wheeled, motorized Harley Davidson carts with the odd shaped steering apparatus that was perfectly centered between the two riders. I would notice the occasional golfer using them back in those wild and wacky 80's, but everyone I played with walked. I actually remember asking my dad during one of our evening rounds why we never used a cart, and although I can't positively quote his exact words from 1981, I'm pretty sure his answer involved cuss words and the term ,"bush league". When you played golf, you walked is what I gathered from my dad's response, so I just continued slinging that crappy canvas bag of Wilsons over my shoulder and kept on trucking.<br />
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But that all changed during the freewheeling 90's, because carts basically became as mandatory on a golf course as flagsticks on putting surfaces. Golf pros, general managers, club presidents and golf course owners everywhere became overwhelmingly spellbound by the Benjamins generated by the gas fueled caddie. Walking a round became as obsolete as a fucking persimmon wood, and no longer was it feasible to burn off those two hot dogs at the turn, because let's face it....you're not burning shit for calories on a golf cart. I wish I could tell you I didn't participate in the golf cart fad, but I totally did. And to the dismay of all the hardcore golfers in New Castle County, Delaware, my dad totally sold out, went bush league and became a golf cart user as well. To be honest, the transition from walking to riding was barely noticeable, and it wasn't until I became a head greenkeeper, that the ill feelings I had towards carts began to metastasize.<br />
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Lets's face it, golf carts fucking blow. Or perhaps the more appropriate statement is the majority of people operating golf carts blow? For close to twenty years, I've witnessed some pretty unremarkable stunts by people operating golf carts, and not in the spellbinding manner, of say an Evil Kinevil jumping over a thousand cars on a motorcycle type of way. I'm talking about dudes ripping through bunkers, traipsing over native grass areas, mindlessly driving into a water hazard, or my all time favorite, shredding doughnuts on a fairway or even worse....a green. Honestly, those stunts don't really piss me off nearly as much as how thoughtless we are as humans (me included!) when it comes to going from point A to point B in the straightest fucking line possible, or the unexplained obsession with parking the cart as close as we possibly can next to a green or a tee. And because of our insistence on taking the most direct route, therefore the fastest route to our next shot, or slapping that golf cart right next to the green, we as greenkeepers have to tacky up our courses with rope/directional stakes and signage to divert traffic while also keeping carts away from our number one asset....greens. Moving rope/directional stakes and signage around is totally bunk (and lest we forget about maneuvering equipment around these obstacles) but another thing that really sticks in my craw about carts is making the dreaded, "cart path only" call. As greenkeepers, we've all been here:<br />
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<b>Golf Pro</b>: How much rain did we get?<br />
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<b>Greenkeeper</b>: Two and a half inches<br />
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<b>Golf Pro</b>: So cart path only?<br />
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<b>Greenkeeper</b>: Yes<br />
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<b>Golf Pro</b>: Shit. Mr. Club President has a 10:30 tee time with three important guests. He's going to be really upset it's cart path only. Can you reevaluate before he gets here?<br />
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<b>Greenkeeper</b>:<i> sigh</i><br />
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<b>Golf Pro</b>:<i> annoyed look because of your sigh</i><br />
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<b>Greenkeeper</b>: Sure, Golf Pro....I'll reevaluate around 10:00<br />
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<b>Golf Pro</b>: Thanks, Greenkeeper<br />
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In all likelihood, it's going to remain cart path only at 10:00 and most likely, all day in the scenario I just laid out. And before everyone gets their panties in a bunch, yes, I totally understand it's my responsibility to make this call, and I totally get we are a service industry, so I fully comprehend, we as greenkeepers must allow paying customers to "scatter" golf carts by any means necessary. But in all honesty, it still annoys the piss out of me.<br />
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For the reasons I just laid out, wouldn't it be awesome to round up every golf cart in the world, deliver them to a central location, say anywhere along the Tropic of Cancer, stack them in sort of an artistic yet random way, kind of like how they do it at Burning Man, and have every fucking greenkeeper in the world attend as we torch this mountain of EZGOS, Yamahas and Club Cars, while also taking aim at the opening act, Jake Trout & the Flounders with X'd out Pinnacles , as we impatiently wait for the headliner whom I'm hoping is either Slayer or Jerry Garcia's ghost.<br />
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Perhaps this could go down the weekend before GIS?<br />
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Seriously though, I loathe carts for all the reasons I just stated, but for me, I really believe golf carts on a whole are a detriment to our environment. I can almost feel your eyes roll at this previous sentence, but I'm going to attempt to shed a little perspective on why I feel golf carts are totally beat environmentally.<br />
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There are approximately 34,000 golf courses in the world. And although I don't have the exact numbers, I'll safely estimate that around 20,000 of these facilities use golf carts. Of these 20,000 facilities that use golf carts, I'll take another safe stab and bet that 15,000 use gas powered carts. I understand this is a wild guess, but let's roll with it just for fun.<br />
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I know for a fact, that our facility used 109 gallons of unleaded gasoline to fuel our golf cart fleet during the month of February. So using 109 gallons as our base, even though we can probably assume that some golf courses used more while other used less during the shortest month of the calendar year, let's multiply this number by 15,000 golf facilities.<br />
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109 gallons of unleaded fuel (15,000 golf facilities) = 1,635,000 gallons of fuel consumed by golf carts.<br />
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To me, that seems like quite a bit of fuel, and I wholeheartedly believe burning just a hair over 1.6 million gallons of gas in a month's time isn't really that great for our already fragile environment. Of course this number is probably way off, but even if it was half as much, I still think we should be concerned. It definitely concerns the hell out of me, and this is why I am the walking greenkeeper. It's not because of my annoyance with how golfers mindlessly operate a golf cart, or how I have to make the call concerning cart rules when the weather doesn't cooperate. And even though these annoyances have definitely influenced my decision, I firmly believe the harmful effect golf carts have on our environment is the determining factor as to why I now walk as opposed to taking a golf cart when I play this game I dearly love. If you haven't walked a round in awhile you should. And if you want to join me, I have this crappy canvas bag you can totally borrow.<br />
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<i>P.S. </i> <i>Electric carts are off limits too. Think of all the inputs needed to charge those bad boys.</i><br />
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<i>Next time.....an update from NCC</i><br />
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<br />Joseph Gulottihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06476792516565348601noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655825762649810123.post-13496458994642483562017-03-24T04:49:00.000-07:002017-03-24T04:49:00.888-07:00Seedhead Suppression...."Minimalist" StyleI'd like to thank everyone for checking out my first post, "I Was A Total Sellout". I'm pretty stoked about the attention it received, but I definitely feel the need to clarify my actual intent. Micah Woods wrote about my blog post (I'm genuinely flattered he did) and I think he explained MLSN and the entire "minimalist" approach to greenkeeping much better than I ever will or can. You can check out his writings concerning my blog by following the link below.<br />
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<a href="http://www.blog.asianturfgrass.com/2017/03/ive-waited-far-too-long-to-voice-my-opinions-concerning-this-extraordinary-profession-of-greenkeepin.html">http://www.blog.asianturfgrass.com/2017/03/ive-waited-far-too-long-to-voice-my-opinions-concerning-this-extraordinary-profession-of-greenkeepin.html</a><br />
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To lay out an example of how my mindset has totally changed by the lessons learned from the minimalist, or as my boy Nadeem Zreikat prefers to describe as an "efficient" (which I totally get!) approach to greenkeeping, I just recently applied our second application of Embark (green label) to suppress the seedheads on our, as you can most likely surmise, predominately<i> poa annua</i> greens. In years past I would've added a heavy rate of chlorothalonil, a pinch of N to "mask" the discoloration Embark "might" cause, and a product, which I will not name here (yet), that supposedly enables locked nutrients in the soil to be readily available for instant plant uptake.....<br />
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This season, I simply used Embark. <br />
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It's not like disease pressure is insanely high during the month of March in Newark, Delaware, and there certainly wasn't any active disease on the putting surfaces. So in an effort to be, "minimal" I decided not to add chlorothalonil. Nitrogen was left out the mix because, in my newfound approach to being a minimalist greenkeeper, and by trusting the growth potential model for applying N, I truly felt the plant would use little, if any N during the month of March in the Mid-Atlantic. Particularly at the wimpy rates I've used in the past when I was a total sellout superintendent. And I have big plans for the mystery product I didn't throw in the tank, but have used religiously for the past 5 seasons that claims to unlock elements in the soil. This season it will be applied on select areas of the golf course, while other areas will receive nathan. My hypothesis is that this product is not doing shite for the soils, and I've been totally duped of the past five years.<br />
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I hope this explanation clarifies how I personally interpret the minimalist, efficient, alternative, environmental,....or whatever adjective you deem appropriate to describe, what I firmly believe, is the ideal approach to greenkeeping.<br />
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<i>Coming soon.....Why I'm the Walking Greenkeeper</i>Joseph Gulottihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06476792516565348601noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2655825762649810123.post-10276937447298861382017-03-19T08:20:00.002-07:002017-03-19T08:20:32.348-07:00I Was A Total SelloutHello Turf Nerds, Turf Heads, Turf Monkeys (I'm calling you out, Turfgrass Zealot!) and every head greenkeeper, green committee chairman, general manager, assistant super, spray tech, irrigation tech, bunker captain, entry level greenkeeper, golf pro (doubt it), hacker or golf kook that happens to stumble across this blog. I've waited far too long to voice my opinions concerning this extraordinary profession of greenkeeping. It certainly is a f'd up world to be associated with, but I truly love it! Particularly, those singular moments when I'm introduced to someone, and through the casual progression of conversation, the inevitable question is asked......<br />
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"So what do you do for a living?"<br />
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"I'm the head greenkeeper at Newark Country Club".<br />
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"Cool.....what do you do in the winter?"<br />
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Well, random person, this winter, along with painting tee markers, ball washers and flagsticks, while also felling the occasional tree (when approved by the green committee), I took a serious personal inventory concerning my regimented approach to the art of a maintaining turf. What I was accomplishing in the past wasn't art at all. It was at best, an arbitrary, paint by numbers style of greenkeeping that focused on maintaining "green" playing surfaces, with no regard to the inputs I was abusing for the sole purpose of keeping my job. I applied nitrogen with machine like precision. My only intention when spraying pesticides was to "prevent" those pesky turfgrass pests from ever occurring , and I totally (over) watered our fine turf areas with the reckless abandon of a Trump crony spewing "alternative facts". And this approach to greenkeeping always bothered me even though I was producing average (at best) playing conditions, while keeping member expectations at satisfactory levels. It nagged at me because of who I am....<br />
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....a person that has always been attracted to the outcasts of society that consistently question main stream America for the singular purpose of making this wonderful country we all live in a better place...<br />
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In my youth, I was a steady protester against the environmental and social injustices of our country. A huge reason why I was attracted to greenkeeping, besides my love of the game, was to make a difference environmentally. And if I am going to be completely honest with myself, I have done a pretty shite job when it comes to being an environmental steward. I was a total sellout, and longed to do a better job.....but how?<br />
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Fortunately, I came across some pretty spectacular greenkeepers while researching the internets. They (and others) are actually doing some impressive work pertaining to limiting inputs in an effort to dramatically improve the environment. Dudes like Dr. Micah Woods who is a treasure trove of knowledge, and shares it willingly on www.asianturfgrass.com and his excellent "Viridescent" blog. Jason Haines, a Micah Woods disciple that totally adheres to the MLSN/growth potential philosophy when it comes to growing grass is another greenkeeper that I feel is fully pushing the environmental bounds in an extremely positive way. Check out Jason's website at www.turfhacker.com if you need a little environmental inspiration. Chris Tritabaugh is another greenkeeper with a minimalist approach that is so f'ing admirable that if you aren't inspired by his style, you're a total kook. <br />
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These fellas, and what I consider to be their alternative style to greenkeeping have inspired me to do what I've always felt was right, but was always scared to attempt. And that is, implementing a minimalist approach to greenkeeping in an effort to be a true environmental steward. The Walking Greenkeeping blog is where I will be documenting my efforts to become a more responsible turf manager. I can't wait to do.....nothing.<br />
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Other topics I'll be addressing on this blog....<br />
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Why I am the <i>Walking</i> Greenkeeper.....<br />
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The dwindling labor pool....<br />
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Are management companies good for the golf industry.....<br />
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And of course.... my attempts to being a minimalist greenkeeeperJoseph Gulottihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06476792516565348601noreply@blogger.com19